


Remember Me

by ACB1



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACB1/pseuds/ACB1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't find a way forward without her. But, could he with her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a while since I've written about these two, but it was time. I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.

There was nothing left for him. He had worked with the team to find the forces that led to Lizzy’s death. He’s been successful in that endeavor, at least. It gave him a small measure of satisfaction to have eliminated some of them, to have gotten some answers. But, the main player behind the debacle, Scottie Hargrave, had disappeared, as had Tom with Agnes in tow. Red knew what some of the taskforce didn’t fully realize – that fighting against Scottie Hargrave was fighting against their own, in essence. Scottie had the support of those beyond reproach. Why, exactly, he didn’t know. Truth be told, he didn’t care. He had taken that investigation as far as he could. The rest was for Harold and the team. Not for him. Not if it no longer pertained directly to Lizzy. He had no interest beyond her. There was just no fun in it without her – he remembered telling her that once. He didn’t understand then the depth of truth that statement held. He thought he did, but he was wrong. He was wrong about many things. Many, many things. Had been for years. 

He called Marvin again. He told him to continue managing things for the foreseeable future. He engaged Dembe in the effort more directly this time. He was going away. For good. 

“Raymond. It is important that someone know where you are,” Dembe insisted. 

“No, it isn’t. Now, are we clear on the accounts and all other business,” Red asked, as he put on his hat and walked toward the door.

“Yes. I understand. Everything. But, Raymond, there are those of us who care for you. We want to be there for you, to help you.”

“No one can help me, Dembe,” he said, before turning back toward his friend. “But, thank you. Thank you for wanting to try.”

With that, Red was gone. 

***

Red understood Dom’s wounded animal crawling into the wilderness metaphor. He wanted to hide and die, too – alone in his misery. He did. When all you live for falls away, there is no way forward. It’s not that he hadn’t tried to find one. He had – at Cape May, at Dom’s cabin, through his work with the taskforce. But, now he knew that was no way forward. He couldn’t find it, because it didn’t exist. And, that was a new horror all its own. 

So, he rented a car with cash and drove across the country. He had no destination in mind. He just drove until he wanted to stop, which happened to be somewhere in the mountains of Utah. He started hiking the national parks there, because he needed the activity. He stayed in nondescript cabins on the edges of majestic peaks and valleys. He breathed the clean air and walked mile upon mile of trails that wound around beauty so fine he’d have to stop to catch his breath sometimes. 

He shed his suits, exchanged his fedora for a baseball cap, bought a sturdy hiking staff and the right boots and blended in with the throng of summer tourists looking for their share in the wonders of the natural world. He didn’t have to talk to anyone, no one knew his name, and he could just be lost. Just him. He was alone with his thoughts, his memories, his anguish. He couldn’t move forward, but he could dwell in the dark recesses of his mind. He could push himself physically every day until he fell into a dreamless sleep each night. It was a purposeful, necessary stagnancy.

He did not drink, he did not smoke, and he did not use any drugs. He wanted none of those things that clouded his mind; he needed clarity; he needed it – for her. He needed to have her at the forefront of his mind at all times, he needed to be clear on what happened to her. To inhibit reality would lead Red to places he could not go – he could never think her to be alive; he could never forget her stillness in the face of his pleading for her to stay, the hard, unforgiving gurney on which she died, her cold hand pressed against his face. Because if he forgot these truths, if he thought even for a moment, while altered by drugs or alcohol, that she lived, and then had to rediscover her death upon his sobriety, he would crumble absolutely. He needed to know she was dead every minute of every day. He needed to remember. 

Eventually, he established a permanent residence for himself in Utah, as much for the beauty and vastness of the place as for his lack of motivation to think of somewhere else to go. His existence was singular. But, he kept busy in his way. He grew tan and lean. He chopped wood for the wielding of an axe, hiked for the burning of his thighs, read Russian novels for the exercise of his mind, and repaired musical instruments found at antique shops for the patience and attention to detail it forced upon him. It wasn’t much of an existence, but it was what he could manage. He had no plan, no directed course of action. He was not Raymond Reddington, Concierge of Crime. Not anymore. And never again. And, that truth, unburdened him in ways he never expected. He was just a man now. A man who mourned his great love. A man who had no one to protect. A man who had no one to be better for, to fight for, to be there for. Just me, he thought. It’s just me. 

A year into his solitude, he found a peace settle within himself. He had reconciled with the life he’d lived, the choices he’d made for her. He had failed her ultimately, but he had loved her and his every effort was for her happiness and safety. In his heart, the one that belonged only to her, he knew that if Lizzy were before him, she would forgive him. Raymond, I do love … . Despite it all, she’d cared for him. He could finally let himself believe that, and it brought him a measure of comfort. In the measure of a man, it was no small thing to have a good woman’s love. And, she had been a good woman, a good, strong, brave, loving and forgiving woman. 

Two years into his new life, with the sun warm upon his shoulders, the sky a bright and perfect blue above, and the gentle breeze billowing his t-shirt just so, he took a deep breath and drew an ax above his head. He brought it down swiftly and at the perfect angle to split the thick log down the middle. He piled the wood on top of the other freshly cut pieces. He lifted a new log for cutting, positioned it just right, and bought the ax above his head again. It was then that he heard something – a human noise, something between a gasp and a yelp, carried along on an echo. 

He quickly turned his head toward the sound. He was in front of his barn, nearly 100 yards from his farmhouse. With the sun in his face and his clothes and bed sheets on the clothesline dancing in the wind obstructing his full view of the house, he could only make out movement near it, a shadow, a person walking toward him. He squinted to better see, the ax hanging from his hand, his arm now at his side, but the dark silhouette came in and out of his view with the breeze and white cotton, a mystery. At nearly fifty yards out, he knew it was a woman, her long hair catching in the wind and trailing behind her, a rich brown, and her butter-colored wind-whipped dress pushing close against her trim and gently curved body. She looked so like, so like his … and then his mind went blank. 

The woman broke into a run. The ax dropped to the ground. As the yards fell away, and she got closer, he closed his eyes, just for a second, a cleansing blink. He opened them when she was but ten yards away and blue eyes were in sharp reveal, rosy cheeks were in full bloom and pink lips were trembling before him. Before him. The impact of her rocked him. Arms wrapped around him so tightly, so tightly. He felt her sobs, her laughter, her awed words. “Raymond. Raymond. I found you. Oh, thank God, I found you. I have looked for you for so long. For so, so long. Where have you been? I worried something had happened to you. Oh, Raymond, Raymond.” 

Her tears wet his t-shirt. Her hands clutched his back through his shirt. Her legs bracketed one of his, gripping it tightly. And, he couldn’t breathe. He. Couldn’t. Breathe. Because what he was experiencing couldn’t be. What he felt surrounding him, what he smelled, the voice he heard couldn’t be. Had he finally, finally succumbed? Had he finally died? What sweet, welcomed mercy.

“Raymond? Red?” She pulled back enough just enough to see his face and pleaded. “Please. Speak to me.”

Her tear-stained face swam before his misty eyes. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

“Red?” Her voice trembled, her eyes wide and desperate. “Please. I’m so sorry. So very sorry for what I’ve put you through. I know. I know. I do. I know what I’ve done to you, and I am so, so sorry. I want you to understand why I did it. Why I had no choice. What I did was to protect Agnes, to protect you. Please understand. I had no choice.”

He swallowed and then he breathed, because now he knew. He knew he wasn’t dead. “There’s always a choice, Elizabeth,” he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the welcome back and the nice reception of this story. Here's a little more ...

Chapter 2  
There was no preparation that could have readied him for this. Nothing. But, to be so blindsided? To have everything you believed and believed in shattered in the space of a hug and a plea? To feel the strong and rapid heartbeat of what you thought long dead, what you mourned still? To be decimated on so many fronts? To have to question those you love, those you thought loved you? It was more than he could handle in that moment. To have to confront the truth, the reality of her, of what her being alive meant, was more than unbearable; it was impossible. It was beyond his capabilities. He could manufacture no appropriate response, adequate façade, or quick-thinking escape to help move him beyond that moment.

“… given the situation. The immediate danger we all faced and my condition made this the best option. I knew the risks to my life. But, Red, that was the easy part. It was what I might be doing to everyone else – those risks – that nearly stopped me from going through with it.”

She was still pleaded with him, begging him to understand, but he had stopped listening. He lifted his head, though, and looked at her. His vision had cleared, and he could see her better now. This angelic creature that had walked the halls of his mind for the whole of her life, and beyond it, or so he thought. She stood before him again – breathing, bewitching and beautiful, while he watched bewildered and battered. Bereft. Broken. He continued the alliteration, ignoring her words, because he didn’t want to hear them now. Couldn’t take them in. Couldn’t take her in. Couldn’t believe this – her – to be real. 

“Stop it,” he finally said. His harsh tone startled her, but she continued:

“I need you to understand. Please. Please understand. I will do anything to … ”

“Stop it. I said stop it!” He tried pulling away from her then, stepping back, nearly tripping over his pile of wood. But, her clutching hands held tight, preventing his stumble, preventing his retreat. 

She moved one of those clutching hands from his back to lay it upon his cheek. “Do you feel my hand on your face, Red? Do you? It’s warm. It’s warm because I’m alive. I’m alive,” her eyes welled with tears anew, but her voice was full of strength and conviction. “I know what you went through after I left. I know. And, I want to make up for that. I want a chance to make it up to you, to explain myself, in hopes that … that one day you can forgive me. I just hope that one day, you can …” she stopped then, her voice catching. She shook her head slightly and cleared her throat. “Can I, maybe, come inside with you for a little while and talk to you? Would that be possible?”

His eyes never wavered from her face as she spoke nor did he move a muscle, her hand upon his cheek rendering him stone still. It was only when she removed her hand and finally stepped back from him, her face conveying the rejection she felt from him, that he spoke: “You betrayed me.” 

Her chest heaved at his words. “Yes,” she agreed.

“I have never wanted anything in my life as much as you, Lizzy,” he confessed, shaking his head, moving his mouth around and around as he waited for the right new words to come. “I have never worked so hard for anyone, to only fail so utterly in the end. I have never mourned anything the way I mourned you. I have now suffered at your hand as you have at mine.”

“I never wanted you to suffer,” she answered, aggressively shaking her head.

“Nor I, you,” he said, nodding. 

“Can I come inside?” She asked again.

 

They walked to his house in silence. The picture perfect summer day lost on them. He knew he was having trouble processing, hadn’t even begun to approach coping, and accepting seemed beyond him. But, he knew she was real; she walked so close to him that their arms touched as they swayed back and forth. Her sleeveless dress left her arms bare, and his thin t-shirt offered him little protection from the touch of her skin. At one point, she wrapped her hand gently around his forearm. His stride broke at the feel of her fingers, and she quickly pulled them back. “I’m sorry,” she said.

They continued in silence until they reached the backdoor of the house. He opened it and stepped back for her to enter. She moved just inside of the kitchen but didn’t venture further until he directed her to please have a seat at the table. He moved about preparing tea for them both, distracting himself with finding just the right cookies to accompany their Earl Grey. But, the strain of those simple tasks proved too much, and he had to brace himself against the counter top, gripping the granite until his knuckles turned white. He dipped his head and tried to breathe through the dizziness. 

“Red,” she said quietly. “Let me help.”

Without waiting for his answer, she finished gathering the components of their afternoon tea. After placing it all on the table, she approached him. “It’s ready. Here,” she gripped his elbow and led him to a chair. When he was settled and had a few sips of tea in him and a macaroon, she asked tentatively of his home. 

“It was a small working horse farm for a long time. The former owners took wonderful care of it, but they’re elderly now. The work became too much for them,” he answered. 

“Why live here?”

“Happenstance.” 

“Why not tell anyone where you were? Dembe … Red, Dembe is lost without you. You disappeared without a trace. You have no phone. No active personal bank account. No way to be informed of … things,” she stopped herself. “I … umm … I’m sorry. I have no right to question you like this. I don’t. I know that.”

“And yet, you are,” he said, smirking bitterly. “So, tell me about Dembe. My friend, my brother. Has he known about you this entire time?”

Her eyebrows rose and fear crossed her face. “No. No, he hasn’t. He had no part in this.”

“So, let me guess, then. I’ll go with Mr. Kaplan with the plan and Dr. Nik with the ability to carry it out. How did I do? I used to be superb at the game of Clue.” 

She cringed at his biting words, and goosebumps broke out across her arms. He shook his head at her reaction, the answer to his question. “It was a last ditch effort to protect everyone in that makeshift delivery room. I was terrified to go through with it, but more terrified not to. At the time, I did not feel there was another option.”

“But, including me in this plan did not occur to you or my employees? I must say, Lizzy, you inspire a loyalty in people that supersedes even mine, and I pay them to risk their lives for me.” He shook his head in disgust. 

“I believe Mr. Kaplan fully expects you to kill her for this, but I beg you not to do that. She saved me. She saved all of us. Most importantly Agnes.”

“Where is your baby, Lizzy? Happily ensconced in the arms of her father? Have the three of you been a happy family these past two years. Lord knows Tom disappeared very quickly after your death. Now, I suppose I know why,” he said, the betrayal he felt cutting him to his core. 

“No,” she said, her eyes now trained on the table. “Tom left to go work with someone named Hargrave. He didn’t know the truth about me. We thought it better – safer – to keep you all in the dark. I thought he’d be there for Agnes. I asked him to promise me that before I let Nik administer the drugs to me. I felt he could do it … he could’ve done it. Taken care of her. But, he put her up for adoption within three months of her life. Mr. Kaplan intercepted that adoption. If not for her, Agnes would’ve been lost to me. Forever.”

She jumped at the sound of the scrape of his chair across the floor. He stood and backed away from the table so quickly he feared he would faint. “Dear God,” he exclaimed. 

“I’ve made a mess of things,” she said. “I know that. But, over the last six months, I’ve been trying to fix it. I’ve been trying to find you. We all have. It’s safer for me now. I live a different life under a different name. A life with me and my little girl. And, I have been looking for you. I never wanted things to go on like this, for you not to know. I … I have missed you. More than you would believe, I think.”

“Lizzy …”

“I tried to tell you … before the drugs put me to sleep. I wanted you to know, in case I didn’t make it. I wanted you to understand that, Raymond, I do love you. I always have. And, whatever you might think of me now, whatever might happen in the future, I still do.” She stood up then and walked over to him. “I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what you need me to do. So, tell me. Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

He stood inches from her, this no-longer-dead woman who professed to love him, who was pleading with him to forgive her. He reached out his hand to her, and before he could ask, she took it. “Come with me,” he asked. 

“Yes,” she answered.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He led her through his spacious living room to a pair of closed pocket doors. Letting go of her hand, he pushed the two doors apart. Taking her hand again, he walked them through the threshold into the room. He heard the soft click of her tongue as she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words soon followed. So, he explained what she was seeing.

“I spend a lot of time here and in the barn. I find old instruments and restore them. When they’re ready, they move from the barn into this room. The books filling the shelves along the walls are all written in Russian. I read them at night sitting in that chair in the corner. Depending on what I read, how I feel that evening, I choose one of these instruments to play. The mandolin over there, the cello, the piano, the banjo, the violin, the saxophone, the trumpet, the others. I am better with the stringed instruments, best on the piano. It keeps my mind occupied, but that isn’t why I do it. Not really,” he admitted, as he stared ahead of him. “I do these things because, for some reason, I always feel closer to you when I do. Finding some solace here doing these things … has allowed me to endure your loss.”

He let go of her hand once more, went to the piano and sat at the bench. Taking a deep breath, he began to play, his fingers light and sure, effortless as they moved across the keys. She stepped up close to him, listening, transfixed. She finally sat down beside him on the bench. 

When he finished playing, he lifted his head, looking at the sheet music in front of him, instead of at her. “I wrote that for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, awed, moved. “I didn’t even know you could play.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Lizzy, but you must know this,” he said turning to her, their faces close, their bodies nearly touching on the small bench. “That no matter the circumstances, the deceit, the betrayal, the hurt I feel, the questions I have, I am so completely overjoyed that you’re here – in the world with me. I am … I am unable to fully express to you the true, immeasurable joy I feel at that. You are alive. And seated before me. There is nothing in this life I have ever wanted more than to have you back again. So, do not think even for a second that I am not completely thankful, desperately grateful that you are here. I am, Lizzy. I am.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For saying that.”

“May I,” he asked, as he reached out to touch her hair with the tips of his fingers. She nodded, not sure of his intention, her eyes wide, gazing at his face.

Upon her permission, he moved both his hands more confidently to her hair, running his fingertips gently through the long brown locks. “So much longer than before,” he murmured, as he watched his hands move through her soft tresses before moving to frame her face. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones. “Rosy, again,” he whispered. He took one of her hands in his then and placed it upon his cheek, holding it there, closing his eyes against the touch. “It is warm, so warm now.” He turned so his mouth grazed her palm in the softest of kisses. Then opening his eyes, he returned her hand to her lap, again taking her face in both of his hands. He leaned slightly forward, slowly moving to finally kiss her forehead, lingering there, again moving one hand to her hair. Then, he kissed her above her eyelid and on her temple. “So soft and all warm now. Alive,” he confirmed quietly. 

He pulled back, his eyes closed. When he could, when he was ready, he opened them. He watched the tears spill onto her cheeks. “Raymond, I never wanted you to see me like that,” she said, more heartbroken than he’d ever heard her.

He nodded, blinking, shaking the haunting memory from his mind. 

“May I,” she asked, but didn’t wait for his answer. She moved forward, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissing his cheek, once, twice, then resting her lips against him as she breathed. Finally, she moved her lips from his cheek, sliding closer to him and hugging him to her more fully. After a moment’s hesitation, he slid his arms around her, finally, for the first time, feeling her waist, her hips, her back, her sides, all warm, all soft, infused with pumping blood and oxygen. He had resisted returning her affection, because he didn’t trust himself to not consume her, to not devour her, to not hurt her in his desperation to mold her to him and keep her there and never let her go again. And, he was tentative still. But, her breath tickled his ear when she said, “Tighter.” And so, he pulled her against him in the way he wanted to, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, feeling the muscles of her back in his fingertips, feeling her chest expand and contract against his with every breath she took. She was really here. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting and failing to prevent the tears that finally came. Relief. Blessed relief and unmitigated joy.

****************************************************

They talked on his back porch for a long time, well into the evening. She told him about her life over the past two years, its scary and lonely beginning, the eventual return of Agnes, the setting up of a quiet life in a remote part of Colorado, the convincing it took to get Mr. Kaplan to allow Dembe in on the truth, and all of their search to find him. 

“So, how did you find me, Lizzy? When I have eluded everyone else?” His face, open and curious now, had hours ago lost its shield.

She laughed a little, for the first time that day he noted. “I would like to think it’s because I know you well, your habits, your inclinations. That I profiled you. But, the truth is a lot of it was pure luck. We knew you hadn’t left North America. Couldn’t have without our finding out. So, that narrowed the search, but you hid well. We all have assigned regions of the country, then there are operatives looking in Mexico and Canada. I have much of the West, minus California. I have had help. But, I have been looking alone this week. Agnes needed some time at home, with a normal schedule. Kate is with her. I don’t quite know what brought me to Utah again. I’ve looked in many cities here already, but never this town. But, something directed me here. I asked around, showed a picture of you to some locals. Their information led me here. But, I was so afraid they were mistaken, that it wouldn’t be you I’d find after all. I’ve been at this a while, and I’ve learned not to get my hopes up. My heart was in my throat when I came around your house and saw you chopping wood. At first, I wasn’t sure it was you, but then I watched you move, I watched you work. And, I knew. And, I just couldn’t believe it. I had had so much fear about what you’d think of me, but in that moment, I forgot all about that. I just couldn’t wait to get to you.” She stopped then, drawing in a shaky breath, before biting her bottom lip briefly and then continuing: “Red, I feel joy, too.” 

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face at her admission. He could only nod in acknowledgment before leaning his head back on the cushioned lounge chair. It was more than any man could hope for out of a day, he thought, staring at the setting sun. More than any man could hope for in a lifetime. His mind began to swim, and the effort to put words together anymore seemed too great. He could hear her breathing next to him and soon her hand moved to his forearm, resting there. From the corner of his eye, he could see her turning from him to watch the setting sun, too.

******************************************************************

Long after the sun had set, they kept their places, silent in each other’s company for more than half an hour. She hadn’t lifted her hand from his arm. “I know I should go,” she finally admitted quietly. “But, I’m afraid to. I’m afraid you’ll disappear, that you’ll leave here, and I’ll never find you again.”

He turned to her, his eyes squinting against the darkness and in confusion. “Why would you think that? I haven’t moved in two years. I have barely been able to put one foot in front of the other for the loss of you. Why would I leave now that I know you’re alive?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I can’t imagine the hurt you feel, how angry you are, how much of that you are hiding from me. And, I don’t blame you. I don’t. I have betrayed you, so have others you trusted. And, now that I know where you are, so will they. I have to tell them, Red. You have to let me. They deserve to know you’re alive. They fear you might not be, that you’d given up.”

“Did you believe that, too, Lizzy? That you were hunting a ghost?”

“No. I never believed you would harm yourself,” she said, vehemently.

“Why not?”

“Because of Agnes. You knew she was out there, Red, and I think knowing that she might one day need you, you would never have harmed yourself.”

“Her father assured me I had no place in her life. I have not seen her since a day after her birth. I protected her as long as I could, but Tom made sure he kept her far from me. I left because without her there was no reason to stay. I had no idea what happened after I left. I would never have allowed that adoption.” His voice conveyed the disgust he felt.

“I know that. And, I was wrong to trust him. I was wrong about so many things. But, I’ve learned a lot over these past two years. I have gained a clarity that was missing for a long, long time. I had lost my way before Agnes, and I was making choices that proved detrimental to my daughter, to you. But, that is all over now. I know my way forward. I do,” she stressed to him.

A way forward. He sighed, deep and harsh, biting the inside of his cheek. “It’s been a long day for me, Lizzy. Overwhelming, really. I need some time. I ask you to give me some time – before you tell anyone where I am. I’m not … prepared to speak or see anyone just yet. I am, frankly, not sure if I’ll ever be, but I certainly am not ready now.”

He stood up then and waited for her to do the same. She reluctantly moved and passed by him to reenter the house at his urging. He put their lemonade glasses in the sink. He turned back to find her standing in the middle of his kitchen, head down, hands clutched in the material of her skirt, shaking her head. “Don’t ask me to go. Red. Don’t … don’t tell me I have to go,” she pleaded, not looking at him. “I don’t have to be home until tomorrow night. Please allow me to stay with you until then. There’s more I need to say to you. There’s more …”

“Lizzy, I can’t …”

“Please. Don’t make me go.” Her chest was heaving again. “I can’t … I can’t …”

“Alright. It’s going to be alright,” he said, approaching her, gripping her upper arms. “Elizabeth, look at me. Relax. Alright? You can stay here. For tonight.”

She swallowed and nodded. “Thank you. Thank you,” she breathed. 

 

***********************************************

When she returned from retrieving her overnight bag from her car, she found him in the kitchen warming something on the stove. 

He watched her drop her bag onto the floor and approach him, coming to stand close beside him. “What are you making,” she asked. 

“I forgot about dinner. It’s rather later now, but I would hate for you to go to bed hungry. It’s just some homemade chicken noodle soup. Leftovers,” he said. 

“It smells great. Can I help you?” She watched as he stirred the near-boiling broth. 

“Bowls are in the cabinet to your right. Spoons are in the drawer below it,” he answered.

She got what was needed, and soon they were eating. The clink of the spoons against the porcelain bowls loud in the quiet. When they were done, which was soon as neither seemed inclined to eat much, Red showed her to the bedroom.

“This is your room, Red,” she observed, as he placed her bag on the chair beside his bed. 

“Yes. I don’t have a guestroom. At least not one with furniture in it. Haven’t had the need. I’ll be fine. Get some rest. You should find what you need in the bathroom right through that door,” he said. “Good night, Lizzy. I’m … I’m pleased you’re here.”

He left her alone then, closing the door to his bedroom without looking back. He wanted to stay with her, to lie beside her all night and watch her, to make sure she wouldn’t disappear, to make sure this whole day wasn’t a dream. But, he couldn’t stay beside her. It wasn’t possible. What he wouldn’t give for some scotch. 

He walked to his library, the room that held his books and instruments. He closed the doors behind him and sat in his chair, grabbing the book on the table beside him. He opened it to his marked page, knowing there was no hope he could read a word. She was in his home, in his bed, lying her head on his pillow, tangling her legs in his sheets. She had pleaded with him for forgiveness; she had begged him to let her stay. She had touched him, stayed close to him and been so kind. She had told him she loved him. His suspended, stagnant life was over. She was returned to him. A miracle. A dream. A fantasy. But, also a lie, a betrayal, a deception so well executed that he had never questioned it. He had never suspected. He had run and hid and licked his wounds, forgetting everyone and everything but himself. It was all he could think to do to survive, to somehow forgive himself and remember her – every day, every moment, undisturbed. 

Kate Kaplan acted because he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He had deceived himself where Elizabeth was concerned. He had been blinded by emotion for so long that he couldn’t see what he was really doing to her. And, he would never had let her risk her life as she had in order to save everyone else. Lizzy knew that, Kate knew that. If asked, Dembe would have agreed. They all saw and did what was needed. Without him. It had all worked out well – without him. So, where did he fit in now? Where was he needed? Should he remain at his home, living a quiet, unassuming life with the new knowledge that Lizzy lived? Should he stay away from her for her own safety and let her life carry on as it had for two years – without him?

He could do that, he could. He could do anything, because she was alive. He could carry on. He would. 

He stood and went to the piano. He laid his fingers on the keys, feeling the smooth, cool ivory. He pressed them down a little harder and began to play. He played well into the night. 

He played until he felt her hand on his shoulder. "Raymond ..."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
She startled him out of his trance-like state. His hands abruptly left the piano keys, and the room was coated in silence. He turned slightly into her touch to better look at her, a vision in white satin pajamas. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I’ve woken you,” he offered, shaken by her presence, tired as he was and lost in his thoughts. 

“No,” she said softly. “You didn’t wake me. I haven’t been able to fall asleep. So, I’ve been lying in bed and enjoying the music. It’s so soothing, so beautiful. You’re a wonderful pianist. I could listen to you play … forever.”

“So, what brings you out of bed,” he asked, suddenly exhausted, his arms aching, his mouth dry. 

“I was worried about you. I was worried that you were staying awake, because I had taken your bed and you had nowhere to sleep. Aren’t you tired, Red?” Her hand gently squeezed his shoulder, kneading the muscles there. 

“I’m fine, Lizzy,” he answered, ignoring the ongoing ministrations of her strong fingers and palm. He fought the urge to close his eyes and groan at the perfection of her touch.

“Do you remember when we were on the run together,” she asked, moving to stand behind him and beginning to gently massage both of his shoulders. “Our accommodations weren’t always so accommodating. There were times, like on the shipping container, where we had to share a bed. There were many times where we slept in the same room, close to one another. I had so much fear then, but you always brought me strength and a sense of safety. I never slept better during those months than when you were nearby. I trusted you. I counted on you. I still do. Red, why don’t you come to bed? Come lie down. With me. You need to sleep and so do I, and I can’t knowing you’re out here.”

Her hands continued at his shoulders, and he was powerless to stop her. He was beginning to feel like jelly. He could sleep there, at the piano bench, if she kept kneading his tired muscles like she was doing. His head dipped forward, and he gave himself over to the sensations she was creating in him. “You are more muscular now,” she said, her voice calm, melodic, lulling him. “Very fit. You look really healthy, Red. Really good. You’re tense, though. Everything’s all knotted up. Why don’t you come lie down and get comfortable. I bet you’ll be able to sleep. Come on. Come with me back to bed.” She slid one hand down his shoulder, down his arm, and grasped his hand. His eyes had fallen closed. “Raymond. Come on,” she urged. 

He opened his eyes reluctantly, and she was there, so sweet, so hopeful, so intent on administering to him. An angel. An angel who could say his name like a prayer, whose hands and voice had healing power. He couldn’t refuse her; he really never could and certainly not when she was being soft, and gentle and so nurturing. So, he stood and let her lead him to his bed. 

Once in his room, he stood at the foot of the bed unsure what to do. 

“Which side do you sleep on,” she asked.

“Hmm. I usually sleep in the middle,” he realized, his voice scratchy, tired and deep. “You choose. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He realized he hadn’t cleaned himself up since chopping wood that morning, which seemed a lifetime ago. As he changed clothes and washed his face and brushed his teeth, he periodically looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Who are you now? What are you going to do? What will she do? Who is she now? Questions. But, no answers. Not yet. Only sleep. Next to her. 

When he returned to the bedroom, he found her on the right side of the bed nearest the door, leaving him the side closest to the adjoined master bathroom. She was on her side, facing him, a small smile on her face. “This is sort of surreal, isn’t it,” she asked.

“More than you could ever imagine,” he admitted, taking a deep breath as he stepped up to the bed, lifting the sheets and blanket and slipping in next to her. 

“But, good, too, right?”

He watched her for a moment. “Lizzy. Give it time. For now, let’s sleep.”

The earnestness he saw in her face transformed so quickly to disappointment, to sadness, but she only nodded. 

He took note of the changes in her – the restraint, the self-awareness, the responsibility, the willingness to listen. The gentle kindness had always been there, the sweetness, too. Her heart was as open as it had ever been. The desperation he witnessed wasn’t altogether new either, but the reasons behind it were. She wanted something from him that he couldn’t yet give – reassurances, acceptance, forgiveness. Time. He needed time. It will come, Lizzy, he wanted to tell her, to promise her, but he didn’t. 

“Good night, Raymond,” she whispered on a sigh, closing her eyes.

“Good night, Lizzy,” he answered, continuing to watch her face and all its changes as she ever so slowly drifted off to sleep. The last time he watched her fall asleep it had been more abrupt, and then he had watched her die. Before that final sleep, she had tried to tell him she loved him; she hadn’t fully succeeded then, but now he knew. He also knew she was working so hard to prove it to him. Time, Lizzy. Give me time.

 

***************************************************************************************

When he woke, he heard her voice immediately. She was on the phone, obviously talking to a child. Agnes. No longer an infant but a toddler. And Lizzy, a mother. Instead of getting up, he closed his eyes and listened to her sing-song voice animatedly telling her daughter about “driving up the mountains and down the mountains, and the car goes whish and rounds the turns screeeech, and the horn says beep, beep and then the sign says stop, and we wait and then we go, go, go, faster and faster and faster …”

Then, he heard the conversation become adult again. Kate. She was talking to Kate Kaplan now. Her friend and savior, her co-conspirator. His longtime colleague, confidante and friend. Kate, who believed he would kill her but was looking for him anyway. Kate, who had saved him from himself time and time again and had managed to preserve what he held most dear when he couldn’t. Kate, who didn’t believe in him, didn’t fully trust him. Kate, who took possession of what was his and lied to him again and again and again. He got out of bed, unsettled before the day had even begun. 

He hadn’t made it two steps out of bed when she entered the room. “You’re awake.” Her cheery voice bounced off his anger, opposing energies in a force field, one unable to penetrate the other. 

“Yes.” He noticed she was still in her pajamas.

“I had to call home,” she said. “Check on Agnes.”

“Sounds like you are training her for a future in car racing,” he said, cringing at how accusatory that sounded. 

She blushed at his comment but nodded, a genuine, dimpled smile gracing her face. “She likes cars and other things that can make a lot of noise. Dolls don’t interest her at all. But, she does like to dress up; now that I think about it, though, she mainly wants to wear my bracelets that she can knock together.”

“She sounds like loads of fun,” he said sincerely, the edge to his voice smoothing. 

“She is. So much fun. Happy and loving and beautiful, and I can’t get enough of her. She is … she is everything,” she admitted, beaming at him. “I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“I’m glad for you, Lizzy. Very, very glad,” he said and meant it. 

“I … I want her to meet you. I’d like to bring her back here with me soon, if you’ll let me,” she said, hesitantly. “I want that very much.”

“I’d like to meet her.” He could not deny how much he wanted that. 

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, looking so pleased. For the moment, he felt something he hadn’t in such a long time – hope.

 

**************************************************************************************

After breakfast, he showed her the barn, which was essentially his workshop outfitted with more tools than she’d ever seen in one place and a wide assortment of musical instruments in various stages of repair. She was most intrigued by the harp he’d recently purchased for which he had a long backstory that he shared with her. She walked around and touched things and talked to him, relaxed, enthusiastic, inquisitive. 

“I want to know more about the church organ over there,” she said. “I bet you have a story for that one, too. I’m sure you have stories for all of them, don’t you?”

“I do. More than we can cover in a day,” he said, straightening the tools on the worktable closest to the harp. 

“We’ll have more days. You can save the church organ story for when I return with Agnes. Okay?”

“Lizzy, there are some things I need to tell you. Things I should have shared with you long ago. I had reasons for why I didn’t. Good reasons, I thought. To keep you safe … that was the main reason. But, now … well, you’ve managed to keep yourself safe without my help for a long time now. It’s time you knew the truth. Sit down.” He pulled two stools out from under the worktable and sat down with her. Then, he told her about her family – her mother, her father, her grandfather. He told her about Russia, Russian spies, Russian double agents, partnership, loyalty, impossible decisions, a lifetime of regret, a lifetime of making up for choices made, love, sacrifice and second chances. He told her all of it. Because it was hers, her history, her story. She didn’t need his protection anymore. She needed the truth, and in the telling, he found absolution. He gave to her what was rightfully hers and one day would be her daughter’s. 

“If I may make one request of you, Lizzy, reach out to your grandfather. He needs you. And, he’s a good man. You’re a lot like him,” he said, rising from the stool.

“Wait. Wait,” she said, panic coloring her voice. “You tell me these things, answer all the questions I’ve ever asked of you, but … but you say them as if you are no longer a part of this. As if you are done.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I think you do,” she stood up and faced him. “This isn’t just my story, my past, my life. It’s yours, too.”

“The truth is I’ve been but a bit player who, over time, tried to assume a much larger role than was originally cast. Do not misunderstand me, Lizzy. I wanted that lead role. I did. I fought for it. But, it never truly belonged to me,” he said emphatically, shaking his head. “You can handle what’s yours quite well. You have done just fine on your own these past two years. Now you know what I know. All there is. It is your choice what to do with that knowledge now.”

“No. No. You don’t get to just check out now. You don’t get to reveal all these secrets to me and that’s it. We’re done. You can’t just say mission accomplished and walk away. That’s not how this works.” In her fury, she had approached him, and oh, he recognized that angry face so well. The set of her mouth, the sparks in her eyes, the veins straining in her neck. He had provoked her and summoned up the Lizzy of old. How he had missed her. “Why are you smiling, Red? Do you find this amusing somehow?”

“No. In fact …”

“Because there is nothing the least bit funny about how wrong you are. I’ve done just fine on my own? I haven’t been on my own. Not a single second. I have had Mr. Kaplan, Nik, and Dembe, even Baz. I’ve had Agnes. I have had your entire team at my disposal for the last six months. I could never have survived this alone. Never. How have you? Because even with all these good people around me who care about me, I am failing miserably.”

“Lizzy …”

“I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine. How can you not see that? You know me. You remember me. I know you do. So, how can you not see how I really am?” The tears continued to well in her eyes, until finally they spilled onto her cheeks. He tracked them, avoiding their source. “I need to leave here today and go back to a life that you seem to want no part of, even though so much of it belongs to you. The story you told me today isn’t mine. It’s ours. Ours.” 

At that, something inside of him snapped. She had broken his last and final straw, and everything he had been working so hard to control collapsed in on itself. “Is it, Elizabeth? Has it ever really been? Was it our decision to fake your death? Was it our decision to make sure I never knew of the hoax? Was it our decision to make sure Mr. Kaplan kept quiet about the truth – even in the days right after your supposed death when I thought I would die of despair, and she knew exactly where to find me? Was it our decision to trust a lying, criminal ex-husband who was doomed to fail you? Is Agnes our daughter? The answer to all of these questions is no. No. These decisions were yours and yours alone. Many terrible things that have happened have been on me. I accept that. But these things are yours,” he said, his voice low and murderous. “Our story ended two years ago because of decisions you made. You and you alone.”

His fists were clenched, and his teeth bared. The rage he felt was overwhelming and dangerous. He could hurt her. This precious thing that he loved beyond all measure. He could tear her apart in an instant. A shiver ran through him at the thought, and he stepped back. 

The whole while he railed at her he had watched the horror on her face, witnessed the fear, the hurt, the denial. He couldn’t look at her anymore. “Elizabeth, go. Go.”

“We’re not done. We’re not,” she said, sniffing, her voice choked with tears and despair.

“For now, we are. Go home to your child. Go and tell everyone they can stop looking for me. I take great comfort in knowing you are alive. I do. But, right now, I need you to leave. For both of our sakes.” He left her in the barn and didn’t look back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments, the many kudos and for plain old reading this story. I appreciate you all. More to come after this chapter ...

In all of their time together, as obstinate, rude and confrontational as she sometimes got, he had never wanted to walk away from her. Never. But, that day he did. Far away. She had pushed him too hard and too far. For two years he had longed for her, believing her cold and buried in a D.C. grave; instead she was a mere few hours away in the mountains of Colorado. He felt sick from the all-consuming anger she had called up in him. Anger at her, anger at the world and their place in it, anger at not knowing how to fix it. He hadn’t killed anyone in two years, but oh he wanted to now. His fingers itched with the desire to hurt something, and his throat burned with an intensity only scotch could soothe. 

When he reached the house, he finally turned around and looked toward the barn. There was no sign of her. He was at a loss on how to proceed, on understanding how it had all come to this? He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. She had the power to hurt him like no other, to enrage him like no one else. What he felt for her and because of her knew no compare. And what she had done and continued to do was too much for him to handle. If she left now, he might not hurt her any more than he already had. In that moment, he was a danger to her and to himself. 

He went inside, walked to his bathroom and closed and locked the door. He turned on the faucet and began splashing his face with cold water. When he finished, as he was scrubbing it dry with a hand towel, he heard her enter the house. She was quiet, but he heard her. After a minute, he heard keys jangling and then his backdoor closing again. Moments later, he heard her car pull out of his driveway. 

He threw the towel to the ground with force before slamming his right fist into the granite countertop again and again and again as he roared at his reflection. 

 

********************************************************************************************************

Much later, when he could no longer ignore the swelling of the knuckles on his right hand, he made his way to the kitchen for an ice pack. He hissed as he placed the bag on his raw, blood-stained skin, cursing himself. Then, something on the table caught his eye; she’d left him something – a cell phone and charger with a note underneath. With his left hand, he picked up the note, jarred at seeing her familiar cursive again: “Dear Raymond, My number is programmed into the phone. So is Dembe’s and Mr. Kaplan’s. If you could let me know how to get in touch with my grandfather, I would appreciate that. Thank you for letting me spend time with you. Seeing you again has meant so much to me. I know the hurt I have caused you is unforgiveable, but I miss you. Every day. Love, Elizabeth.”

He sat down and rested her note on the table, smoothing it with his fingers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he reached for the phone. It had been a long, long time since he’d used one, so long it felt foreign in his hand. But, the time had come to reacquaint himself. With one quick press of his finger, he was reentering a world he’d voluntarily and necessarily checked out of. He listened to the ringing, once, twice, then his solitary world disintegrated: “Dembe. It’s me.”

 

**************************************************************************************************

Taking control of his business again was effortless. Red flew Dembe and Marvin to Utah. The three met at the farm, and Red was updated quickly on the dealings of the past two years, the financials, the negotiations, the day-to-day. He thanked both men for their loyal service to him and fed them a hearty dinner. He spoke in general terms about his long sabbatical, learning of Liz’s continued existence and his move toward business as usual. Relieved to have him back and available for conferencing, Marvin asked Red little about his time away, but Dembe wasn’t so restrained. 

“Raymond, you look well, but I am not so sure you are,” Dembe said, as the two walked to the barn. “I know your meeting with Elizabeth was difficult and did not end well. She is not …”

“Dembe, my friend, let’s stick to business, shall we?” He feigned a lightness he did not feel.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Raymond. It’s never just business. We are here for more than that,” he said plainly. “I don’t want to defend her to you, Raymond …”

“Then don’t,” Red advised. “I’ve heard her explanation. In great detail.”

“Then you know her intention was to help, not hurt us. After all you’ve done for her, for her protection, you must see she wanted to do the same for Agnes, for you and the rest of us.”

“Enough for now, Dembe,” Red sighed, clapping him on the back. “Come and see my tinkering.”

 

***********************************************************************

 

While Marvin returned home the following day, Dembe stayed on at the farm for the better part of a week, catching up with his friend, enjoying the outdoors, the quiet. Red, for his part, seemed content with the company, having missed Dembe, the ease of his temperament, the conversation, the companionship. But, he didn’t bend when the conversation turned to Elizabeth; he wanted no part of it. And, eventually, Dembe let it go. Instead he focused his attention on what he did best – taking care of Raymond Reddington. It worked for them, and at the end of the week, the men had regained what they’d been missing for the last two years. 

“I’ll return soon, Raymond, but I wish you would reconsider coming with me,” Dembe said, as he moved to the front door. 

“I can’t go back, Dembe. However I got here, this life suits me now. I won’t go back to the taskforce and compromise their lives or Elizabeth’s. It is best they remain in the dark about her, I agree, though it pains me for them. They are safer, she is, too, with the current arrangement. Their work has gone on without me, as you’ve told me. I won’t supply them with any new information that leads them to me, or anyone else to me, in the off chance she is discovered as a result,” Red explained. “Let’s allow things to continue as they have been.”

“She’s gone to see her grandfather. The visit is going well,” Dembe informed him. “I talked with her this morning. She asked about you.”

Red swallowed and nodded.

“Raymond, don’t let pride and anger keep you from her. For two years, you had no choice but to be without her. That isn’t true anymore. Now, you do have a choice; you can decide. The second chance you wanted is still possible. It’s more possible than it’s ever been.” With that, Dembe left him. 

 

*************************************************************

 

The day Liz left his farm and after his phone call to Dembe that evening, Red texted her the information she had requested regarding Dom. He couldn’t bring himself to call her, but he wouldn’t ignore her either. She answered with a simple ‘Thank you.’ Nothing more. 

Since she left, he’d had time to begin to process the new reality before him. He knew the old life he’d led was done. He did not have the heart or the strength to go back out into the dark underworld he’d inhabited before her death. His businesses were being well managed by Dembe and Marvin. With Red’s reinsertion into the game, they would all benefit. His head for business had always been well above average. Participating in this aspect of his life again moved him forward; it began a process. 

He’d also decided not to kill Kate Kaplan for a variety of reason, not least of which was Lizzy’s begging him to spare her. In truth, he did not want Kate’s blood on his hands, not if she had saved Elizabeth from being captured and killed. No. Agnes needed a mother, and because of Kate, she had one. Agnes. The little girl he thought could save him from despair after her mother was gone, the little girl he was never meant to see again. He could see her now. He could be a part of her life. And her mother’s. Katarina’s daughter and granddaughter were not lost to him. Or to Dom. He let the utter relief that knowledge brought pour over him for a while after Dembe left; he reveled in his good fortune, however it came about. He didn’t have the confidence Dembe did in second chances, but he could stand in the present now. He could try. He wanted to try. 

 

*******************************************************************************************

 

A week after Dembe had gone, Red realized there was no way he could go on indefinitely without her. No matter the unbelievable hurt and anger he felt, he felt the compulsion for her, too. Alive or dead, she conjured up in him an ache, a want that he was powerless to overcome. He needed to see her again. Three weeks to the day after she’d left his house at his demand, he accepted the inevitable. Despite everything she’d done, he needed her – before him, next to him, to touch and smell and hear and see. She was out there in the world – alive – and he’d just let her walk away. It was almost inconceivable to him. But, he also understood it had been necessary at the time, absolutely necessary for her to go then in order to preserve the possibility of ever going forward. If she had stayed any longer, he would have done something, said something that would have rendered a future relationship of any kind impossible. 

But, now, he needed to see her. Desperately. So, for the first time, he picked up the phone she’d given him with the intention of calling her. He felt anxious as a schoolboy, afraid of rejection, worried he’d say the wrong thing, excited to hear her voice again. He cleared his throat as he listened to the phone ring and ring. Just as he was about to give up, she picked up: “Hello?” She sounded out of breath.

“Lizzy? Are you alright?” He stood next to his piano, gliding his fingers gently over the smooth keys.

“Yes. Hi,” she said, clearing her throat. “Hi.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“No. No. It’s good.” Her voice still sounded high and rather breathless, but he didn’t belabor the point. 

“I am calling to extend an invitation to you and Agnes. We talked about planning a visit for a later time, so I could meet Agnes, and if you are both available next week, I’d like it … very much … if you could do me the honor of being my guests for a few days here at the farm.” He shook his head; he sounded ridiculous, nervous, too formal, too detached. 

She didn’t answer immediately, and he was forced to sit down at the piano bench. When she finally spoke, he understood the delay. “Yes. We are available. We … umm … we can be there as soon as the day after tomorrow. Would that work for you?” She was crying. Oh, Lizzy, he thought, what are we going to do? 

“That sounds perfect,” he said, crisply, nodding for no one. “I will see you then.”

“Wait. Red? What should I bring? Do you need anything,” she asked. 

“Just the two of you, Lizzy. I will take care of the rest,” he said, hanging up quickly. Okay. Okay. A first step. 

********************************************************************************

In two days, as promised, Lizzy and Agnes arrived at the farm by mid-afternoon. Red had been in the barn when he heard the car pull up. He came out to witness Lizzy lifting Agnes out of her car seat. As he walked toward them, his heart pounded and his palms began to sweat. She began to make her way toward him, carrying a sleeping Agnes. Red walked briskly, trying to stop her progress, wanting to get them into the house and Agnes to a bed. 

When he reached them, about twenty yards from the house, Lizzy was smiling, pressing her face ever so gently into her baby’s hair. She looked both happy and a bit scared. When she lifted one hand off of Agnes’ back to run through her own hair, he saw that it shook. 

He wanted to put her at ease. She had just traveled a number of hours with a toddler, and if memory served him, that wasn’t always pleasant. He tried to school his expression, tried to smile through his anxiety and curiosity. “Hi Lizzy,” he said softly, not wanting to wake the child. “I’m glad you made it. Come inside.”

He lifted his hand to usher her toward the house and grazed hers that again sat on Agnes’ back. It was a simple touch, an unintentional touch, but it stopped them both for a moment. She looked at him with shining eyes. “I’m glad we’re here,” she said tenderly, before turning toward the house. 

************************************************************************************

Unlike Liz’s unexpected first visit to his house, this visit was planned, and Red had prepared. He now had two furnished guest rooms, one complete with a crib as well as a single bed with a railing, whichever Agnes’ mother preferred for her. Liz followed Red to the bedroom he had decorated with Agnes in mind, and she gasped before getting a hold of herself and placing the still-sleeping baby in the crib. She backed up, standing several feet from him, as he admired Agnes, getting his first look at her since she was two days old. 

“She is beautiful, Lizzy,” he whispered. “So like you, but even more like Katarina.”

“I know. I’ve now seen pictures of my mother at this age, and Agnes looks so much like her. It’s amazing. To know that that’s true is amazing,” she said with wonder. She looked away from Agnes then, surveying the room, with its rocking chair and toys, stuffed animals and books. 

“Let’s let her sleep,” Red said, his eyes still on Agnes, even as he moved to the door. 

After exiting the room, they unpacked the car, set up Agnes’ things and finally sat together in Red’s library, he on the sofa and she in a chair across the room from him. 

“Are you okay, Lizzy?” Her silence concerned him. 

“I’m just tired. I had an early morning,” she said, giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. But, he knew it was more than that. He could see she was going to be tentative with him now; she was going to follow his lead. He had scared her the last time she was here, and she didn’t want to do anything to upset him, to push him this time around. She would tread lightly, she would respect his boundaries. She would tiptoe around him like he was a predator, a threat she didn’t want to antagonize. She wouldn’t touch him; she wouldn’t stand or sit too close; she wouldn’t ask to sleep beside him. She wouldn’t remind him of what they’d been. It was the smart way to play it, and he hated it. 

“Why don’t we switch places? Come lie down while Agnes sleeps.” He rose from the sofa and moved toward the chair. She hesitated, uncertain, but as he approached she stood. He gently grasped her elbow, as she moved past him; he smelled her perfume and felt her warmth, but her step was light and quick as she moved around him and out of his reach. 

She took a throw pillow and placed it under her head as she took his advice and stretched out across the sofa. “I never nap. I always have so much to get done while she’s asleep. But, I’ll rest for just a few minutes,” she rationalized, even as her eyes grew heavy.

“I have been reading a particularly engrossing novel. Would you mind if I read a little bit of it aloud now, Lizzy?”

Her eyes widened at his unusual request. “No. Go ahead.”

He nodded and opened to his page. His eyes scanned for the place where he had left off, and then he began. He had failed to tell her he would be speaking Russian. She said nothing, but her eyes stayed trained on his face, falling often to his lips as he spoke what should be her native tongue. He knew she knew none of the language but hoped its cadence would lull her to sleep, even as it awakened something in him he was afraid to acknowledge. 

He read for more than half an hour, but each time he looked up she was still awake and watching. Finally, he closed the book. “I thought you’d fall asleep,” he said, his voice deep and rough, in need of some water. 

“I like listening to you,” she said, her voice low and tired. 

“Close your eyes and rest. I’m going to be quiet now,” he coaxed.

“My grandfather told me you fixed his piano key. That was kind of you,” she said, as she watched him place his book on the small table next to him. “I like him, my grandfather. I almost can’t believe it’s real, that I met him, that he exists. Thank you for telling me about him.”

“The truth is I should have told you long ago,” he admitted. “I’m glad you have finally met him.”

“He thinks a lot of you, you know.”

“I doubt that. Long ago we were good friends. But, many things have happened since then, as you now know,” he said, standing. 

“Where are you going?” He heard the panic in her voice and wanted to rid her of ever feeling that around him.

“I need a glass of water. What can I get for you, Lizzy? Tea? How about some cheese and crackers? Some fruit? You must be hungry.” 

“No. Water is fine. Thank you.” She still hadn’t lifted her head from the pillow, and he could see the fatigue on her face, the strain coming to him had put on her. 

“Okay, then. Water.”

He stayed gone longer than necessary. He wanted her to rest. Rather than being angry with her, he felt protective. He wanted to comfort her, and he had to wonder about how quickly he’d shifted from wanting to hurt her to wanting to shield her. It surprised him but shouldn’t have, because despite the collapse into rubble of the brick and mortar, the foundation still remained. 

 

***********************************************************************************************************

She never did sleep. She was sitting up and waiting for her water when he finally did return, and then soon after Agnes woke up. Rest time was over. Red dubbed Agnes ‘busy bee’. She delighted him with her energy and sweet nature. She took to him quickly, and he happily sat on the rug and played whatever she wished – pretending to drink tea and eat plastic incarnations of fried eggs and apples; stacking blocks again and again, just so she could knock them down. He took her outside and let her run in the field between the house and the barn, while Liz prepared a simple dinner, at her insistence.

When it was time to eat, she called them in, and he had a moment of panic, because it felt so natural, so wonderful to hear her happy, sing-song call for dinner and to scoop up a squealing little girl and rush right in, besotted and excited by what was to come. He was transported to another time, another life, but at the same time, so present, so content with what was before him – love and happiness and family. Too big a leap when he was assured only a small step. 

Liz had brought a booster seat for Agnes, who had very little interest in eating but seemed content to sit with them at the table while they ate. 

“She’s a little overexcited,” she said apologetically to Red. “Agnes, how about some chicken and pasta. Look, baby, eat some of this for Mama.”

The kind coaxing didn’t work, but Liz did get her to drink a cup of milk and eat a banana, and it would have to do. 

Following dinner and a bath for Agnes, Red insisted Liz take a break. She didn’t argue and headed for a shower. After playing for a little while, Red carried clean, sweet-smelling, sleepy Agnes to the library where he sat her on his lap at the piano bench. 

“Let’s play, Sweetheart. We put our fingers on the keys, and do you hear that? You made music. That’s it. Watch my hand. Now, your turn,” he talked and talked, and they played and played. And, eventually a movement caused him to look up; Liz stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, her smile soft but sad somehow. 

“Look, Agnes. It’s your Mama, and I think it’s bedtime,” he said gently to the little girl who was now leaning back comfortably against his chest.

Liz walked toward them and carefully lifted Agnes out of his arms. She kissed her daughter and whispered to her, “Tell Raymond good night, baby.”

“Ni-night, Raysin,” Agnes said, putting her head on her mother’s shoulder. 

“Good night, Sweetheart,” he said. 

He watched the two of them as they left the room, leaving him alone. Thoughts crowded in quickly but paramount among them was what a good day it had been, how pleased he was to have them both with him, how easy it had been to slip into something wonderful, to want that something wonderful to last. It had been so easy to put his anger and hurt aside and just enjoy Lizzy and Agnes. He had been a very lonely man for a long time. To not feel that oppressive loneliness, even for a day, shed beams of bright light on the world around him, a world he could inhabit again – if he chose to accept a second chance, if he could. 

*****************************************************************************

Liz never returned to him that night. He had thought she might, had hoped she would. Finally, he left the library to head to bed. On his way to his room, he noticed the guest room that was meant for her was untouched. He pushed the door to the room open further to confirm that she was not in there. Then, he quietly made his way to Agnes’ room. He pushed the partially closed door open to find the baby sound asleep in the crib, and Liz curled up on the single bed across the room. To Red’s surprise, she wasn’t asleep. Her wet eyes shined brightly in the dark room, wide open and startled by his presence. 

“Lizzy?”

“Raymond,” she whispered.

“Have you been awake this whole time? You should’ve come back to the library,” he said, softly from the doorway.

“Oh, well, Agnes was asleep, so I just thought … I didn’t want you to feel like you had to …,” she stopped and shook her head back and forth on the pillow. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded quietly, making his way into the room, coming to stand next to the small bed where she lay.

“Nothing’s wrong," she insisted quietly, but he heard the emotion in her voice, saw her tear-stained face. "You were wonderful with Agnes today. She loves you already like I knew she would. It was nice finally seeing the two of you together. I’m glad you invited us. I’m glad that … after everything … you still wanted to meet her.” 

He nodded, biting his cheek for a moment, thinking. “So, you believe I invited you here for the sole purpose of meeting Agnes.”

“And, I’m so grateful that you did. Thank you for allowing me this,” she said, so sincerely. “It’s been important to me that you meet, and it will be a comfort going forward just knowing that …”

“Stop, Elizabeth. I need you to stop right there. And, I need you to get up and come with me.”

He saw fear flit across her face followed by confusion. She shook her head and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he pushed her bedcovers aside and grabbed her hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe there is only one chapter left after this one. That could always change, but, for now, here is the penultimate chapter. I am anxious for the finale Thursday - hoping for good things, though. Crossing my fingers for good things!! Thanks for all of your comments, kudos and for reading, as always. You all make writing so much more fun!

“What are you doing,” she whispered, a frantic look in her eyes. “Where are we going? Agnes …”

“Will be fine. We aren’t going far,” he assured her sternly, tugging her hand, forcing her to stand up and follow him. As they moved through the room, he saw her glance at Agnes with a fearful longing that wasn’t necessary, but that she thought it was alarmed him.

At one point, he felt her begin to pull away, to hesitate enough that he thought she would stop his action altogether, but then she began moving forward again. Her trust in him in regards to her had diminished. He would never hurt her. She knew he would never hurt her. Didn’t she?

“Red?”

“Red?”

“Please.”

He ignored her and led her through the house, out the back door, onto the back porch, down the steps and out into the grass about ten yards from the house where he abruptly stopped. She collided with his back, and he heard her panting, felt her furious heartbeat against his right shoulder blade, felt her breasts, hidden from him by only a thin camisole, pressed firmly against his back. She felt delicious, and he squeezed her hand tighter and pulled her from behind him to stand next to him. “Look up, Elizabeth,” he demanded. 

“What,” she asked, still breathless. 

“Look up,” he repeated more gently and waited for her to comply before continuing. “It is usually difficult to see so many stars as you see right now. In most of the United States, they are covered by lights and pollution. Utah has some of the darkest sky in the world, if you can believe it. For the last two years, I’ve gone to the Bryce Canyon Annual Astronomy Festival. It’s fascinating. Saturn, Jupiter, other planets and stars, nebulae, constellations in a pitch black sky. The group supplies the very best telescopes for gazing. I can look for hours and hours and never tire of it.”

She stayed silent, looking and listening.

“But, there is one star I never need a telescope to see. I can just come stand right here, any night, every night. It is dependable and steady. Reliable and true. The star that has guided sailors for centuries. Polaris. The North Star. In the darkest night with no other hope, with no other recourse, Polaris stands bright and sure. Pointing the way home,” he said, reminding her of the story he had told her while aboard a shipping container nearly three years before. “You see, no matter what has happened, no matter the difficulties faced, no matter the struggle moving forward, there are some things in the universe that can be counted on, because they have proven themselves by time.” He turned to her then before he went on. “You have always been and remain still my way home. My guiding light. My Polaris.” 

Her face remained tilted to the sky as he watched his words filter through her. She stayed quiet for a long time, so long he thought maybe there was nothing more to say – for either of them. 

And then, finally, she spoke. “No,” she whispered. “You have it wrong this time.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He whispered back, watching her somber face.

“I have not been true or steady or reliable. I have been the exact opposite. I know what I’ve done. I knew then how awful it would be for you, and I did it anyway,” she said, shaking her head. “There is no forgiving that. I can’t expect forgiveness from you when I can’t even forgive myself.”

“Elizabeth, listen to me …”

“And the thing is … the thing I didn’t know until it was too late is that everything leads to you. I have been the opposite of Polaris. But, you? You are the one true force in my life. You are MY way home,” she said, finally turning her face to peer into his. “And, I didn’t know.”

He took her face in his hands, cradling her so gently, worried she would break any minute. “Lizzy, stop and listen to me now. Listen. I didn’t ask you here because of Agnes. I wanted to meet her, and I find her utterly charming. I want to spend as much time with her as I can. But, it’s you I need. You. You.”

She tried to shake her head again, but he held it steady. “You were right to send me away last time. I kept pushing you to forgive me. I was desperate for it. I can’t sleep for wanting it. But, you and I both know I don’t deserve it. For so many reasons. Why would you want me here now,” she asked, her voice shaking, her lips trembling.

“Because I love you,” he answered definitively, his hands tightening on her head ever so slightly. “I love you.”

“Raymond …” Her voice broke on the whisper.

“It isn’t for you to decide. It’s for me. Whether to love you or not is my choice,” he explained emphatically. “And, I choose to love you. Beyond all reason, through all difficulties, no matter the challenges or heartache, no matter what the past has revealed and the future holds. You are Polaris for me.”

She searched his eyes. He knew she was looking for any hint of doubt or pity or hesitation on his part. She would find none of those things. She would find nothing that would allow her to discount his words, so hers could be true. 

Her tears barely held at bay, she acquiesced: “You are a better man, a far, far better man, than you give yourself credit for being.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, smoothing her hair as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, lingering there for a moment. 

“I do,” she said, shuffling slightly closer to him.

“Are you cold,” he asked, pulling back slightly and noticing the goosebumps on her arms and realizing her state of undress. She was barefooted and wore very short silk pajama shorts and the camisole. 

“Oh, um, no. No. I … I was just,” she stammered.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back to lead her in. He walked her back through the house to the hallway, where he stopped in front of the guestroom, the room meant for her. She hesitated then, and he remembered this was not where he’d found her earlier. “You were going to sleep in Agnes’ room, Lizzy, when the bed in this room is bigger and very comfortable. Why?”

She gave him a sad smile before answering. “Her room is so sweet. You put so much thought into it. It’s so personal and welcoming. It feels like home, like hers. I just wanted to be near that, I guess. I don’t … sleep … at least, I have trouble sleeping. I thought being in that room would help.”

He nodded. “And this room, on the other hand, is rather cold and impersonal.”

“No, Red. It’s fine. Really. It’s all I need.”

“The thing is, Lizzy, I guess I didn’t want you here. In this room. So, I couldn’t find the proper motivation to decorate it like I found for Agnes’,” he admitted. 

“No. It’s okay. I understand,” she said, but she sounded far from it. 

“It isn’t okay. I am not a very good man, after all. You see I very much enjoy having you closer to me than this room allows. I enjoy having you right next to me, in fact. So, maybe that influenced my decorating choices here. Maybe I was hoping to entice you to come sleep beside me again. Maybe if I made this room so cold and sterile you’d turn away from it and to me,” he pondered. “Oh, Lizzy, I am afraid you miscalculated when you gave me the benefit of the doubt a few minutes ago.” 

“Did I? I could go back to Agnes’ room then,” she teased, her voice softening as he moved a step closer into her personal space. 

“That is an option,” he murmured, slipping his hand in hers.

“But, that bed is rather small, and I’d like to stretch out. I’d like to sleep tonight. I need to so badly,” she sighed, tightening her grip on his hand. 

“Well, come with me, Goldilocks,” he urged, a question in his eyes. 

“I want to … very much,” she nodded, her eyes playful, but he saw the hint of uncertainty there. 

“And, I want you to very much,” he said, pulling her closer. “Come sleep beside me.”

She shivered. “Okay.”

***********************************************************************************************

She was waiting for him in much the same position as she had been the last time she’d slept in his bed. He exited the bathroom to her soft smile, head on his pillow, body turned in his direction. Lizzy, alive and soft and tired in his bed. The vision of her was almost too much for him, and he gripped the edge of the door to steady himself. Her brow furrowed as she assessed his movement, but he quickly recovered and walked to her, slipping beneath the covers and settling beside her. He smelled her shampoo and her soap from her shower earlier, and it was so tantalizing he closed his eyes against it. She was too alive for him in this moment.

He felt her feather light touch on his arm. “Raymond, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he said, opening his eyes, his voice deep and rough. “Everything is very right. Perfect. You are perfect.”

He saw her chest heave at his declaration, and her eyes again take on the shine of unshed tears. “I was afraid to come here,” she confessed, keeping her hand on his arm. “I wanted to. When you called, I wanted to come immediately. Before you could change your mind. But, I was afraid, too. Afraid of how I would find you toward me, afraid of not knowing how to behave around you, afraid that I would be jealous of my own daughter, afraid of feeling, again, the possessiveness I feel around you – a possessiveness I have no right to feel.”

“But, are you afraid of me, Lizzy?”

“No. No. I am not afraid of you. I don’t believe you would ever hurt me.”

“I won’t,” he promised. Their eyes held, until she finally looked down. 

“Will you hold my hand,” she asked, slowly sliding it down his arm to his hand. “It will help me sleep.”

He linked their hands, pulling her forward ever so slightly so their joined hands rested on his chest. “Good night, Elizabeth. You have nothing to be afraid of. Sleep now.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. I wrote this before last night's finale, otherwise it would not have happened at all. I feel disillusioned now. A lot of the episode was predicted, by many of us, but it was still upsetting in a lot of ways. Maybe with time, I will feel better about things. For now, I guess there's fanfiction. So, here's a chapter. It was supposed to be the conclusion, but I didn't get that far. Thanks for reading. Happy hiatus!

The days went by fast, too fast. They hiked at Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks, Agnes on Red’s back in a carrier, and Lizzy beside him. They went to antique shops searching for more musical instruments in need of loving care. Red and Agnes played the piano often, to the delight of both. And, Red and Lizzy spent Agnes’ naptime in the library with Red reading to Lizzy in Russian, often with her head resting on his shoulder. He had taken to providing commentary, so Liz could understand the story, because she refused to have him read it in English. When he asked why, she would only say, “I like hearing it read in Russian.”

The nights went by slower. After that first night, Lizzy did not sleep in Red’s bed. Agnes required her presence, waking often in the night crying for her mother. “A new place … a new routine … she’s overtired,” Lizzy explained. Liz slept in Agnes’ room in the small bed, as she had begun to do that first night, before Red took her from it. He longed for her warmth, her presence beside him at night, but he would never interfere with her parenting, never dare try to pry her away from that precious little girl that had already wormed her way into his heart, aside her mother. 

Despite suffering from a lack of sleep and the knowledge of issues unresolved, Red felt a shift, an acceptance, a trust, a new start for them. But, he also knew Lizzy was holding back. Despite all he had told her – what he felt for her, how that hadn’t changed, she didn’t seem able to fully let go of her anxiety, her regret. He had lived for two years believing she was dead, but she had lived for two years with the knowledge of her betrayal, and he was realizing that that was somehow harder to overcome. 

“She calls you raisin, you know,” Lizzy said early one evening as they watched Agnes play in a sprinkler Red had set up for her in the backyard. 

“It’s a vast improvement, I think,” Red mused, smiling at the squealing little girl for whom he had bought four bathing suits that afternoon along with the octopus sprinkler; Lizzy said he was spoiling her, and he agreed. Agnes was getting braver and braver by the minute, running closer and closer to the water. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like Raymond,” she said, standing a few feet from him on the porch.

“Do you?” He took his eyes off of Agnes for the moment to gaze at her.

“Yes, I do.” She smiled but didn’t turn to him. “Raymond.”

“I like it when you say it,” he said, stepping closer to her. “But, I must admit I am fond of raisin, too. It has a certain panache.”

She grinned, dimples breaking through. But, after a moment, she grew serious.

“We leave tomorrow. Agnes has a check-up with the pediatrician, and I have some things I have to do at home,” she explained. 

“Yes,” he said, knowing already that they were departing. So, there was something she wanted to say, then. He waited. 

“What happens next? For us, I mean? If I ask you, will you come visit me in Colorado?”

He leaned against the porch railing, angling himself so he could see her increasingly tense face. “That’s not a good idea, Lizzy. Your life there needs to stay free of complications. I don’t want there to be even a remote possibility of it being compromised by me. But, I’d like you to come back here. Anytime. Soon.”

She kept her eyes on Agnes, but her body instinctively turned in his direction. “I don’t think you understand,” she said, and her voice had lowered and hardened. “I have Kate and Dembe; I even have Baz and Marvin; I have your people protecting me; I have a bank account full of money that I am quite sure is yours. As I have told you before, my life – this so-called uncomplicated life – doesn’t really belong to me. I have been in a holding pattern for two years. First hiding, then getting my baby back, then learning how to be a mother, then settling somewhere safe with level upon level of protection, then searching for you for months. What I have isn’t a real life. And, it certainly isn’t uncomplicated.”

“I can’t join you in Colorado, Elizabeth,” he said. 

“Will you ever talk to Kate? You’ve managed to talk to me, to hear me out. Can you hear her?”

“I can, if it matters to you,” he agreed, nodding.

“It matters to her, Red,” she said, getting angry. “I would think it would matter to you, too.”

“In the timespan of several weeks, I have dealt with many aspects of my life, discovered unbelievable, devastating circumstances. I’m still coming to terms with a lot of this. I asked you for time. I need you to respect that request.” His frustration increased with hers. 

“Mama! Mama!” Lizzy grabbed a towel off the railing and jogged down the steps to a crying Agnes who had put her face right on top of the sprinkler.

“You are fine, baby,” she said, scooping up the wet, exhausted little girl. “I think it’s time for a bath and then a bedtime story.”

“Want Raysin, too,” Agnes said, as Liz walked up the porch steps, past him. 

“You’ll see him in just a few minutes. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay.” Liz went inside. Red was left to wonder how to push forward, how to move toward something again in the right way, at the right pace. 

****************************************************************

Later that night, he sat with Agnes on his lap, her little fingers at the piano keys. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he said, after moving the fingers of his right hand furiously across the keys, creating an uproarious noise that had Agnes clapping. “Have some fun. Let’s hear your music.”

She stamped her little hands on the keys excitedly for a while, then slowed down to touch one key at a time with her pointer finger. “I make loud music and quiet music,” she told him. 

“You are brilliant,” he told her. “Absolutely brilliant, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” Liz said softly, moving into the room, still pink from her shower and wearing a bathrobe. “Agnes, it’s time for your bedtime book now. Tell Raymond good night.”

“No,” the little girl said, still focused on the piano. 

“Agnes, be a good girl and come with me now,” Liz said, coming closer.

“No. I stay and play with Raysin.” Red could see Liz’s perplexed face and wondered if Agnes was just entering the world of defying her mother. He remembered the onset of the terrible twos in his household so long ago. 

“How about you go to your mother, Agnes, and I play you both a quick song,” he coaxed, even as he was lifting her and placing her in Lizzy’s waiting arms. 

He took a deep breath and began to play the song he’d played for Lizzy during her first visit to him. He had felt her pulling away from him all evening, and he didn’t want her to leave like that – distant, frustrated. He needed to reel her back in, to remind her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her sit in his chair in the corner of the room cuddling Agnes in her arms, her eyes on him. As he played the music he knew so well, he recognized the melody as melancholy, as full of longing and loneliness; he’d never heard it before, never like this – so clearly full of unrequited and desperate love, so full of pining for something that would never be. He had written the music for her, months after he’d lost her. And, even weeks ago, when she had returned to him and he’d played it, he hadn’t heard it as he did now; he had still been in that dark, dark place – then clouded further by anger and betrayal. But, he heard it now. He heard it. He pulled his hands away from the keys suddenly as if they’d been burned. He looked up, shaking his head, a haze lifting and falling away. No. No. This would not do. 

“Lizzy, when Agnes is settled, come and find me. It doesn’t matter how late it is. Will you do that?”

She looked startled and confused, but she nodded. That was all he needed. He left the room. 

 

***********************************************************

 

It was nearly two hours later when he heard the barn door open. Her footsteps were hesitant.

“Come in, Lizzy,” he said. 

Her steps sounded surer then, and soon she appeared before him. “It took me a while to get her to sleep, and then I couldn’t find you,” she said, sounding slightly panicked. “Then, I remembered the barn.”

“We won’t be here long. I know Agnes may need you soon,” he said, trying to assure her that he understood they were out of earshot of the child. “Come see.”

He gestured for her to come around the table she stood before and closer to him. When she was next to him, he pulled a sheet away from something that sat in front of them and stood nearly as tall as they were. When the sheet fell away, Lizzy gasped. 

“It isn’t quite finished, but I decided I couldn’t let you leave without showing it to you. I’ve been working on it since you left a few weeks ago. You seemed so intrigued by it, and you enjoyed the story behind it, too. I wanted to wait and present it to you when it was perfect, but then I realized it may never be perfect …”

“The harp. It’s beautiful,” she said, awed. “The details, the time it must have taken you. It looks brand new. It’s stunning.”

“Pluck the strings,” he said, gently.

She did, and the sound resonated through the barn. “Lovely.”

“It’s yours, Lizzy. I’m going to move it into the house soon. It will be there for you when you return,” he promised. 

She nodded, pleased and touched he could tell. He moved to stand in front of her, facing her and blocking her view of the harp, needing her full attention. “I wanted to give you something meaningful, so I spent weeks restoring this. I spent two years writing music and restoring instruments for you. And, the thing is, Elizabeth, all that time before you returned and now since, you’ve only needed one thing from me. For so long, I didn’t know what it was, of course, but several weeks ago you told me. And, instead of giving you what you really wanted, I spent my time doing this.”

“Red, I love this,” she said, perplexed. “I really, really do. Please believe me when I …”

“Elizabeth, I forgive you,” he said, stopping her. “I forgive you. For the hurt you’ve caused me, for the lies and the betrayal, all of it. I forgive you. You’ve asked for my forgiveness, you’ve pleaded with me for it, you told me you couldn’t sleep for needing it, and yet, I didn’t hear you. I wasn’t ready to fully hear you – or myself. But, it is all clear to me now, Lizzy. And, I forgive you for everything. I hope you’ll forgive me, too.”

She had already closed the gap between them, and as soon as his words stopped, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her. “Thank you,” she said, her voice husky with tears. He wrapped his arms around her, too, and held on. 

 

************************************************

Lizzy and Agnes left the next morning, with the agreement they would return in two weeks with Dembe. 

Alone again, Red looked around his house. His living room was strewn with toys and a forgotten blanket. Cheerios covered his kitchen table from a hasty breakfast. Agnes’ room was just that, lived in and full of lingering baby smells. His bedroom, featuring his rumpled bed that Lizzy had slept in with him the night before, warmed him, made him feel alive. His house had become a home. What a month ago didn’t exist now was transformative. The past was just that. But, the future? It was the future that he looked toward now with renewed hope and possibility. There was a way forward, and it contained forgiveness and love and joy and laughter. And, he had found it. 

He made his way from his bedroom back to the kitchen. He picked up his cellphone from the counter, and with resolve pressed the only programmed number in it he had not yet called. 

She answered quickly. “Raymond.”

“Kate. What’s your schedule like for the next couple of days?”

“I can clear it for you.”

“Do it. I need to see you, and it can’t wait. Lizzy can give you my address.” With that, he hung up. 

What they needed to talk about couldn’t be done over the phone. He needed to see her face, and she, his. And, then maybe, everything would be put right. 

 

*******************************************

 

Two weeks passed slowly for Red. Utah still suited him, but the solitude no longer did. His meeting with Kate Kaplan hadn’t been without difficulty. She refused his claim that he could have been a part of the plan to fake Lizzy’s death. “Raymond, you could never have stayed away from her. You would have drawn Alexander Kirk right to her. With her, you lose all sense of business, of our standards, of protocol. And, you know I’m right.”

“She’s suffered, Kate, because of what you did. She has regrets; she almost lost her daughter, for God’s sake,” he fumed. 

“She’s alive, isn’t she? I promised you would never lose her again, and I have kept that promise. The fact that you don’t like my methods is irrelevant.” She remained stoic, even in the face of his anger.

“You know, Kate, you’ve gotten cocky over the years. I blame myself,” he said, shaking his head. 

“You would be blaming yourself for a lifetime if that girl had died. Now, you don’t have to,” she said, unfazed by his anger. 

“So, I should thank you for the hurt you’ve caused? The devastation I felt? The loss of her almost killed me.” 

“I am sorry for that, Raymond. You know I am. I never wanted it to come to that. But, I ask you to try to remember the danger we were all in, and then tell me you had a better plan, a plan that would have had as good an outcome,” she pushed. 

He stayed silent for a beat, and then he tilted his head and bit his bottom lip. “I didn’t have a better plan,” he admitted.

She reached out and grabbed his hand then and squeezed. “I know you didn’t. So, I stepped in for you.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

“She loves you, Raymond. In ways I never expected. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Otherwise everything I’ve done is in vain.”

**********************************************************

 

When Lizzy arrived this time, he was waiting for her, had missed her, and Agnes, too. He felt a weight lift from his chest as she exited the car. He was beginning to realize what letting her leave did to him, how he feared he’d never see her again each time she went. But, it was more than that. He knew it was more than that. He had adjusted to her being alive again, and more than that, to being loved by her. He felt her warmth, her desire to be close to him, her wanting him to be happy, and he felt her waiting – for him. The irony of that was not lost on him. 

He had forgiven her, but he hadn’t been truly honest with her. His forgiveness was sincere, but it was also a means to an end – what he hoped would be a happy end. He wanted her happy. He wanted her to feel loved and cherished and to feel his warmth and desire for her. He wanted to show her. But, did she want to see? He intended to find out. 

“Raymond,” Dembe came toward him for a hug. Red embraced his friend, pleased to see him again. When he broke away, he saw Lizzy standing beside them. Beyond her, through the open car door, he saw Agnes asleep in her car seat. Lizzy smiled shyly at him, still hesitant, still uncertain. “Hi there,” she said.

Red stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace, as he had Dembe. “Elizabeth,” he said lowly in her ear. She stiffened in surprise at first, but then she melted into him, hugging him back. “Raymond,” she whispered. He pulled away slowly. “I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you,” he said, rubbing the back of his hand against her cheek. He saw the flush spread like wildfire from her chest to her cheeks. “Let me get Agnes. You two go get settled.”

Both Lizzy and Dembe took a moment to move, adjusting to the change they were seeing – a lightness, a solicitousness, a something they couldn’t quite put their finger on. But, soon they picked up their bags from the trunk and made their way into the house. Red took a few seconds to admire the changes in Agnes before lifting her up and out of the car seat, bringing her into the house stealthily. After placing the toddler gently in her crib, Red noticed Lizzy’s overnight bag sitting on the small bed. He picked it up and brought it to his bedroom. 

That night they had a grand dinner, and for the first time in two years, Red had a glass of wine. He felt the cabernet spread through him, creating a pleasantness he’d nearly forgotten. He relaxed. He looked around him and felt, for the first time in decades, like a lucky man. When Lizzy whispered, “What?” to his rather insane grin, he could only shrug his shoulders: “It’s nothing. Or everything.” Her lifted eyebrow only intensified his expression, and she huffed a laugh at him in mock agitation like she hadn’t done in years. It felt fantastic. 

*******************************************************************

Hours later, he lay in bed on his back, his hands folded on his chest. Waiting. Finally, he heard her footsteps. She slowly opened his door and peered inside. 

“Red? I can’t find my bag. I thought I put it in Agnes’ room, but it isn’t there. Have you seen it?”

“It’s right here, sweetheart,” he said, pointing to the floor beside the bed, near him.

“Oh. How did it get in here? Agnes must have moved it.” She walked over to where he had pointed. But, before she could lean down and grab the bag, he reached out and gently gripped her arm, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bed.

“I put it in here. I wanted to make sure I had an opportunity to talk with you alone tonight. I thought having all of your clothes and toothbrush might ensure that."

She looked slightly concerned. "Okay. What did you want to talk about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. How are you, Lizzy?"

"I'm ... I'm fine. Are you alright? You seem a little ... strange tonight."

"I feel good tonight. It was nice having you and Dembe together in one place - with me - again. But, I want to know how you are. How have you been these last two weeks? Really?"

She sighed then and searched his eyes for a moment. "Okay. I've missed you. Agnes has been defying me. I had to call a plumber because my washing machine flooded my laundry room. I need a haircut. Really, Red, is this the kind of thing you want to know?"

He sat up, becoming eye level with her, and grinned. “It is exactly what I want to know.”

She frowned at him, her brow furrowed. “Why? It’s mundane ordinary life stuff. Boring. Pedestrian.”

He put his hands in her hair as he laughed quietly. “Oh, Lizzy. I fear if I don’t do something and fast, we will fall into roles first set for us, by us when we met. Roles that don’t fit anymore. I want to avoid that.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Red, what is going on? Is something wrong?” 

“Sweetheart, if I asked you to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night, would you go? First, let me be clear; I have enlisted Dembe to babysit Agnes, something he’s said he has done before. We won’t be far away. The restaurant is a mere ten-minute drive from here. Oh, but the food is perfection, Lizzy. We’ll be out maybe three hours or so. What do you think?” 

Her eyes were wide with surprise, and she stayed quiet – almost too long. Then, she blinked and licked her lips, a small smile lifting them. “Raymond, are you asking me out on a date,” her voice had deepened. 

“I am,” he answered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind remarks after the last chapter. They are all, every one, very appreciated. This is the last chapter, but I am considering an epilogue. I think one might be needed, but this chapter needed to end here. Thanks for reading!!!

Raymond Reddington rarely experienced nerves of any kind – whether he be in the midst of a shootout, a difficult negotiation or an evening out with an attractive woman. However, a first date with Elizabeth Keen proved unlike any other first date he’d had – at least since he was a boy. She set him on edge; she made him think about his every move, his every word. He didn’t want to push too hard or hold back too much. It was a delicate balance, a delicate dance he had to perform. He was making an effort to do everything just right, but at some point during the meal, she reached her hand across the table and placed it on his forearm and gave him a look. And, though they’d never shared a moment quite like this one, he knew exactly what that look meant. It said, plainly and kindly, “Hey, it’s just me.” So, he relaxed. 

Her eyes were shining, and her skin glowed in the candlelight. She’d worn her hair up, exposing her neck, and he found himself tracking its curves. Her dress was simple, elegant. She smelled delicious. She was, in every way, exquisite. And, with her hand on his arm, he could finally breathe, and enjoy her. 

The food had been delectable, as he’d promised. The conversation was, at turns, light and serious. When they were done, and the last drop of wine had been drunk, he’d insisted on dessert, though she claimed she was unable to eat another bite. 

“Lizzy, we can’t leave without having the chocolate Doberge cake. Trust me on this. You will not regret it,” he smiled, even as she shook her head. 

“Red, I can’t. Honestly. Why don’t you order it, though, and we’ll bring it home with us for later,” she said, laughing at his animated and childish insistence. 

“I like the sound of that,” he said gently, nodding. Home. Us. Later. All of it. It sounded right. She nodded back, smiling sweetly at him. 

 

*********************************************************************************************

The house was quiet when they returned. 

“They must be asleep,” Liz said. “Here take the cake, and I will check on Agnes.”

He took the box from her hands and turned to walk to the kitchen, when her voice stopped him. “Red, why don’t you get two forks and meet me outside on the porch. I think I can fit some cake in now.”

“Okay,” he said, watching her small, quick smile before she turned to walk away.

Ten minutes later she met him on the porch; she’d put on a sweater to ward off the chill in the night air, but otherwise she’d kept herself dressed and, he thought, she might have even freshened up a little. 

“Lizzy, I took the liberty of opening this champagne I’ve had since I moved in here. A neighbor brought it over as a welcome gift. I never had a reason to drink it, but I thought now we might have a toast to the nice evening.”

He handed her a glass, and when she had it in her hand solidly, he touched his glass to hers. “To forgiveness, to friendship, to the future,” he said. “Thank you for a wonderful night, Lizzy.”

They sipped their champagne, but he could tell he’d made a mistake. Even as she took her first bite of cake and moaned at its perfect texture and flavor, he could see the doubt in her eyes, the question. Even as they talked about the rest of their visit, what they would do tomorrow, what Agnes might enjoy and Dembe, even as they made their way through the rest of the cake and the champagne, he saw her conflict, her confusion. 

It was after they’d finished their dessert and sat back in their chairs resting and looking at the night sky that he heard her sigh and clear her throat. Her scattered thoughts had gathered. “Red, can I ask you something,” she asked, hesitantly.

“Anything.”

“When you said ‘to friendship’ before, what did you mean?” She turned to him, and he took her in, the pinched look on her face, the uncertainty in her eyes, the disappointment that lingered behind them. “Are we friends?”

“I certainly hope so, Lizzy. At least that,” he answered sincerely. 

“What about at most? What would you hope for us at most?”

He took a moment. He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head as he turned away from her slightly to look back at the night sky, at Polaris. “At most,” he said on a whisper, tilting his head. “A couple of months ago I would have been sitting out here alone, without hope for much of anything. A clear mind to remember you with, I suppose, a strong body to use to help forget when I needed to. Not much else. To have hope for anything now is … is more than I ever dreamed possible. So, for me, to look into the future at all with hope … well, it’s beyond my wildest expectations. To have your friendship, your kindness, your love, and Agnes’ makes me a very happy, contented man. It is, most certainly, enough. To ever lose that again would break me beyond repair. It is something I cannot risk.” He turned toward her then. “So, for that reason, I turn your question back to you: What would you hope for us at most, Lizzy?”

She took a deep shuddering breath but didn’t hesitate in her answer. “I hope to be more than your friend. I hope … I want … to be so much more than your friend. You won’t lose me again. No matter what happens. I promise you that. I promise you.”

He stood then and reached for her hand. He pulled her up, so they stood face to face, toe to toe. “I would like to be more than your friend,” he admitted. “And, for what might be the first time in my life, Elizabeth, I am not sure exactly how to go about that, or when, or if, I should.” 

She lifted her arms and placed them on his shoulders. “You should. Trust me, you should,” she said softly, stepping forward, leaning ever so slightly into him. “May I,” she asked, even as her lips moved to his, “kiss you, Raymond?” She didn’t wait for his answer. 

********************************************************************************

 

Red learned quickly that despite the life lessons she’d learned, the patience and restraint she’d exhibited since she returned to him, and the responsible and sensible mother she’d become, at her core Elizabeth Keen was still as impulsive, volatile, demanding, tenderhearted and gentle as she’d ever been. She loved him fiercely, fully, sometimes angrily, sometimes merrily, always without affectation or censor, always knowing who he was, always grateful, always accepting. At least they were friends, confidantes, and loyal partners, and at most, they were lovers, soul mates, parents, and best friends. 

The night she told him what she wanted, the night she kissed him tasting of chocolate and champagne and so much more, the night he walked her to the barn and learned that Elizabeth Keen was neither quiet nor restrained when it came to their pleasure, the night she whispered in his ear, clinging to him during their lovemaking, “Don’t let go of me, Raymond,” was the night the future revealed itself, and it stunned him in its brilliance. No longer the moon and the stars, but the sun. The light. The light that for decades had struggled to break through shone brightly, blindingly on them both.


	9. Epilogue Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of a two-part epilogue. I wasn't sure I should go forward with this, but this fandom has been so quiet lately, I thought I'd help fill the summer void. Stay tuned for Part 2. It will get better! Thanks to all who read this.

The bright future that he envisioned, that blazed hotly before him the night in the barn, their first night together, would come to pass, as inevitable as the stars, but not before many bumps in the road, many deviations from the path he’d imagined, many sleepless nights, misunderstandings, arguments, screaming matches, yes, screaming, and pain. She wasn’t easy. Lizzy. And, neither was he. He knew his shortcomings; he’d accepted them. He knew hers, too. The problem was they both came up short in the same areas, leaving a deficit that neither quite knew how to make up. 

******************************************************************************

“Raysin said ‘No,’ Mama,” Agnes announced, walking into Lizzy’s bedroom, coming to stand beside her mother, who was stuffing clothes into a suitcase that sat on the bed. 

“Agnes, you might not remember, but we used to live in the house we’re going to in Colorado. It will be fun to see your room again, and all of your old toys,” Lizzy said, kneeling down in front of her now three-year-old daughter. 

“I don’t want old toys. I want my toys,” she said, her face beginning to crumble with the onset of tears.

Lizzy pulled the child against her, kissing her silky dark brown hair and her forehead. “We’re just going for a little while, okay? We’ll be back. Everything will be fine. We’ll have fun, you and me. Don’t cry, baby. Please.” 

But, her entreaties did no good; Agnes was crying in earnest now. Lizzy picked her up, shushing her and rocking her back and forth in her arms, the little girl’s pig tails swaying slightly with the motion. Then Liz noticed Red leaning against the doorway, arms folded, lips pursed, disapproval oozing from his every pore. She could only glare at him in silence unwilling to upset Agnes further. He held her gaze for a long time before shaking his head, turning and walking away. 

When Lizzy finally got Agnes calm and down for a nap, she went in search of him. 

She found him chopping wood outside, the swing of the ax swift and sure as she approached him. 

“What did you tell her to upset her so much, Red,” she demanded, hands on her hips, voice raised, finally free to express the boiling betrayal and anger she felt. 

“Me?” He laughed that fake, belittling laugh she hated and hadn’t heard since the day she found him again almost a year ago. “It’s what you’re doing that’s upsetting her, Elizabeth, not what I’m saying. She asked me if I wanted her to go, and I said no. The truth. I told her the truth. Just like I told you the truth when you asked where I’d gone and why. In fact, you had that truth corroborated by Dembe, Kate and Baz. Yes, I know you contacted all of them after I’d answered you. After. Meaning you distrust me. Oh, Elizabeth,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m disappointed in this behavior from you.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” She was beyond angry; she was incensed. “You did this. Not me. You want to reengage with the cabal? You want to put my child at risk? You want to meet for days with Laurel Hitchens and then Madeline Pratt? You want to play me for a fool? What did you expect would happen, Red? What did you expect my reaction to be?”

“Reasonable. I expected you to be reasonable, to listen to what I had to say,” he said, throwing down the ax hard enough that it pierced the ground and stood between them.

“Oh, I listened. And, I heard plenty. Enough to know I am doing the right thing by taking Agnes and going away,” she said, her voice catching slightly on that last word. 

“You’re wrong. You’re running at the wrong time and for the wrong reasons. I would never endanger Agnes. Or you. By intervening in the cabal’s business right now, I am preventing problems for my business and for all of us down the line,” he explained to her again.

“Why now? After three years of leaving it all alone? Why do this and call attention to your life, to us?” She was desperate to understand; he knew this, but nothing he’d said so far appeased her. The fear she felt radiated off of her and seeped into him, making him doubt his actions, making him doubt. 

“There was chatter. Dembe relayed to me what he’d heard from those close to the cabal’s head, as I’ve told you. Their plans, to spread their cancerous enterprise, needed to be stopped. I needed to show myself. They needed to be reminded that certain actions would not be acceptable and would greatly harm their interests. Madeline helped me make sure of that. She is well connected, Lizzy. She’s despicable sometimes surely, but she is an asset I avail upon on occasion, and in this case, she proved helpful.”

“You did not feel the need to share any of this with me beforehand? You just left in the middle of the night, leaving me a vague, ridiculous note and thought I wouldn’t ask questions? You know me better than that,” she said, advancing on him. “You also know I cannot be a part of this. If you are entering this world again, I can’t go with you. I told you I would never leave you again, but you are giving me no choice.”

“There is always a choice, Elizabeth,” he reminded her, taking in her wide, tear-filled eyes, feeling her warmth, cloaked in disappointment, so close to him. 

“Well, I choose Agnes,” she whispered, before turning away and walking back to the house. 

He watched her go, this latest attempt to explain and stop her leaving as fruitless as the previous. This days-long struggle between them, full of circular arguments and angry words, exhausting them both, would end where it had begun – with Lizzy reiterating that she was leaving. And, she would go, he knew. She would make good on her threat, because he had brought to bear her greatest vulnerability – the safety of her child. His attempt to keep the Big Bad Wolf at bay only reminded Lizzy that it existed, that threats remained, that they were real. A woman who would fake her own death for the sake of her child would give no second thought to leaving her lover for that child. But, he’d acted in the best interest of Agnes, hadn’t he? He loved that little girl, too. More than he could ever adequately express. More than Lizzy seemed to realize. He would fight for Agnes, kill for her, but he couldn’t keep her. No matter how much he wanted to. He wasn’t her father. 

Red pulled the ax from the ground and lifted it over his head. His rage-filled bellow stopped Lizzy in her tracks. She turned to see him chop again and again at a mammoth tree in front of him. Goosebumps broke out across her body, and she shivered. “Raymond,” she whispered, her voice lost to the soft breeze that blew. 

 

**************************************************************************

 

The morning after their first night together Red and Lizzy had been quiet, kind and solicitous with one another. Dembe’s raised eyebrow over breakfast only brought forth a shake of Red’s head. Lizzy got Agnes ready for their trip to a nearby lake, where they could picnic, hike and swim. The child seemed extra exuberant, and for her part, Lizzy seemed slower to react and respond than usual. Her frequent yawns and the stiffness of her movements, tracked closely by Red, soon enough had Dembe shaking his head in chastisement at Red. 

With the car packed and ready, Lizzy excused herself for a moment and returned to the house. Red followed and found her in the bathroom. He knocked but didn’t wait for her admittance before opening the unlocked door. 

“Red!” She had her shirt off and was facing him, startled at the intrusion.

“What’s wrong? Something’s wrong. Tell me what it is,” he demanded.

“It’s nothing,” she assured him, but he was unconvinced. Her eyes didn’t lie. 

Then he looked up and into the mirror. Her back. Oh, her back. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, stepping closer to her. 

“Yeah,” she exhaled. “The hay. I didn’t realize last night. It felt rough, but I wasn’t thinking … I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Your back is one massive brush burn. Oh, Sweetheart. We need to get some ointment and bandages on this. Now.” He was chewing the inside of his cheek as he located the first aid kit in the cabinet. “Why didn’t you say something over breakfast?”  
She looked at him like he was crazy. “What would I say? With Dembe there? And Agnes. Hey, Red, our wild marathon love-making session in the barn last night left me a scraped up mess.”

He chuckled sensuously. “Oh, I think Dembe would have handled that information just fine. Now, stand still.” He began smoothing antibacterial ointment on her back, and in a couple of places, he delicately placed bandages. “If only you were this still last night, this wouldn’t have happened,” he said lowly. 

“This is a small price to pay,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder and, alternately, in the mirror. “I loved last night. I wouldn’t change anything about it. Not one thing.”

He met her eyes in the mirror, surprised by her seriousness and the earnestness and yearning he saw on her face. “Neither would I,” he admitted.

 

********************************************************************

 

When Lizzy and Agnes left Red after that profound visit, it was with the intention of coming back in a week for a much longer stay. After that much longer stay, the two returned again soon for an even longer visit. Soon, the question became, why leave at all? 

“I want you both here, Lizzy, but I understand if the time is not right, if you feel there are risks for both you and Agnes. I do. I will not pressure you or infringe on your life in any way. I can be content with this arrangement if it works best for you,” he told her as he stroked her hair. 

She lifted her head from his chest, so she could see his face. “It’s getting harder and harder to leave,” she admitted. “Agnes certainly never wants to go. She loves it here. She loves you. I love you. You know I do.”

“But?” He could feel her uncertainty.

“I just don’t want to tempt fate, I guess. I don’t want anything to change this,” she admitted. “For so long I lived with the hope of this, of you, and now that it’s real, I worry that any wrong move will wreck it all. I know that’s not logical thinking; I know I am being paranoid and anxious …”

“Lizzy, you have good reason to worry. Given our history, you’re right to worry, but I have left behind the things that pose a threat to you and Agnes. No one knows about your existence but a handful of people, and we’ll keep it that way. I believe this can work, but if at any point, it doesn’t … for you … then, please, walk away. No matter what happens, my love for you will never change. Keep the house in Colorado. That way you have a safe place if you ever need it. I mean what I say; if there is ever a time when you feel unsafe or unhappy, then go, Lizzy.”

She snuggled up closer to him, her face now poised above his. “I won’t be unhappy. I know that. I feel really good here with you. It feels right. And real. You make me very happy, Raymond.” She bent down and kissed him, encouraging his passion for her, playing with him just a little, just enough, until he accepted the challenge she presented him. His hand clasped the back of her head as he changed the pace of the kiss, deepening it, growling in his growing frustration, as he repositioned her above him. As he moved his lips to her neck, he paused at her ear, “Stay with me, Lizzy,” he coaxed, deep and rough. “Stay with me.”

“I will,” she gasped, as his teeth bit into the delicate flesh of her neck. “I want to.” 

 

*******************************************************************

For nearly a year, Red, Lizzy and Agnes enjoyed a life of family, of peace, of joy and happiness. There was love and desire, and laughter and squealing, and the sound of music and literature. Sometimes there were tears, but mostly from a little girl still learning the boundaries of life. When Dembe reported a potential threat from the cabal to Red, he did it reluctantly, aware of the delicate balance he was threatening. 

“Why are you bringing this to me, Dembe? You know I want nothing to do with any of this. I can’t have anything to do with this,” Red reminded.

“If there was another way, Raymond, I would have found it by now. If they go through with this acquisition, then it will be difficult for us going forward. They will have too many people too close to your interests; too many people too close to you. It could compromise you, Elizabeth and Agnes. You can stop it, but only you. You know I do not have the influence necessary. I’m sorry, Raymond.”

“I don’t want Elizabeth worried about this. It isn’t something she needs to be made aware of. Let’s get it over with quickly, and then I want to be left alone,” Red said, as he stood from his stool in the barn. It was late, but the new knowledge he’d acquired had energized him. “We go tonight. I won’t return until we’re done.”

“But, Raymond, Elizabeth will …”

“Dembe, this is best. It’s despicable, but it’s best. Meet me at the car.”

Red came into the kitchen quietly, and finding a notepad, scribbled a note to Lizzy. It would have to do. He would work out the rest later. He hoped. It was a risk, leaving this way. He knew that. But waking her and explaining everything would be worse. He left knowing there was protection in place for her. He left knowing that what he was doing was in her best interest. He also left knowing that what he would return to could be quite different than what he was leaving. 

And, it was. 

She left him.


	10. Epilogue, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. Thanks for reading!!

Putting on that three-piece suit again after so long had felt uncomfortable. He had shed that armor more than three years ago, and it weighed heavy against his skin now as he sat on his plane headed for Germany – without Lizzy, without Agnes – to finish this nasty business he was embroiled in thanks to decades of criminality, misguided beliefs and misaligned allegiances. The viciousness, the demonic laugh, the evil grin, the devil-may-care attitude that once flowed naturally from him all required effort now. He had to prepare for his performance. He’d lost the killer instinct that allowed for a seamless transition from thoughtful person to heartless assassin. It had been snuffed out with Lizzy’s presumed death. So much of what he’d been was now lost to him, happily lost. 

In the last three years, he’d become just a man, a regular man – with a simple life and grief, then a simple life and the love of a good woman and her little girl. He’d thrived, he’d basked in their light. It had served him so well to be, as Lizzy called him, her man. He had been her man all along, he knew, for the whole of her life, but she acknowledged it now, she wanted it. And, he wanted her. More than ever, more than anything. And, he had disappointed her, distrusted her as much as he had accused her of distrusting him. He knew it. He had known his actions, noble as he had convinced himself they were, would never sit well with her. Instead of confiding in her, allowing himself to trust in her strength, resilience and understanding, he had left her to deal alone with an ugliness that affected them both. It was no surprise then that she had done the same to him. 

They’d failed each other. Again. Both stubborn, both protective, both independent, both willing to walk into harm’s way for the other, both willing to risk too much, until it was too much. They’d forgotten themselves in that farmhouse in Utah cloaked in sunlight and dimpled cheeks and green grass and wood smells until what he’d fought for and she’d died for came rushing back knocking the wind out of them. If anyone had been watching and cataloging the love story, because it was a love story, of the highest caliber, they would have called it a tragic one to be sure, but it wasn’t without hope. Because they were that, too, both of them; despite everything, they were still hopeful. 

******************************************************

“Raymond,” Dembe walked toward him down the plane’s center aisle with the satellite phone in hand. “It’s Elizabeth.”

Red cleared his throat. It had been two weeks since she and Agnes had left for Colorado. He’d only spoken to Lizzy once since; she’d called to tell him she’d arrived at her house safely. He’d struggled to give her space and time; he’d left her alone, and it was killing him. 

He took the phone and waited for Dembe to walk away before putting it to his ear. 

“Lizzy?” He shifted in his seat. 

“I know where you’re going and I know why. You just can’t stop, can you? No matter what I say or what I do, you’ll always act in accordance with your own vision of how things should play out. Always with yourself at the center.” She was angry. Before this whole thing with the cabal, he had not seen her angry much since her return to him. He used to like it, though, back when they worked together; it used to get his adrenaline flowing; it used to turn him on, but right now, it made him wilt. 

He sighed. “How is Agnes?”

She scoffed at him. “Deflect. Maybe I’ll forget what I called about.”

“I’d like to know how she’s faring, Elizabeth. Can you do me the courtesy of answering the question?”

“Yeah, I can.” It was her turn to sigh. “She wants to go home. She wants her raisin. That’s how she is.”

“May I speak with her?” His voice went high, full of hopefulness and false cheer. 

He could hear Lizzy calling to the little girl and prompting her about who was on the line. His heart thumped faster in his chest when he heard the little voice he’d missed. He let Agnes ramble about some pretend ponies her mother had bought her and the park nearby and the small “not real” piano she now had to play her music. “It sounds bad, Raysin. Not pretty like ours,” she explained, and he could imagine her scrunched up face as she talked, so like her mother’s.

“Hmm. Well, it sounds like you’ve busy, sweet girl,” he said, contented to hear that she had the same energy and excitement despite the changes in her life. 

“But, I want to go home now. Mama said not yet, and that you are far away.”

“I’ll be back home soon, Agnes. Very soon. Then I hope to see you. I will call you when I get home. Okay? Can I talk to Mama now?”

“Bye, Raysin. I love you.”

“I love you …”

“Hello. It’s me, again, Red. I heard what you told her. Will you be home soon? Don’t make her promises you can’t keep.”

“I will. This business is going to be completed tomorrow – one way or the other,” he said, ending solemnly. 

“I don’t want to know what that means,” she stressed.

“Not what you think it means,” he said, weary of her doubt and contempt. 

There was silence. He breathed slowly, quietly, so he could better hear her soft sounds at the other end of the line. Finally, after a time, he heard a sharp intake of breath, signaling the end of the call. “I have to go,” she said quietly. “Raymond. Be careful. Please.”

“I will be. I have every intention of being home Thursday evening. I’ll call then. Good-bye, Lizzy.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. He didn’t want her to tell him not to call. He doubted she would do that, but he didn’t want to take the chance. He needed to know they were waiting for him. He needed that to get him through the next couple of days. 

***********************************************************************

It turned out that his goal of being home by Thursday was too ambitious. The work went well, but he had to be delicate about disengaging too soon. No one needed to suspect him of falling off the face of the earth again, even though that was his every intention. The fear he had instilled in the cabal members who threatened his business needed to remain long after he was gone. But, it was a black hole, this “industry,” and he knew it was too easy to get sucked in again, even against your will. He was playing at the edges, the fringe was tickling, the German beer tasted spectacular, old friends beckoned, and a woman he’d known very well came out of the woodwork, had shown herself to him, purposefully. The sirens were calling, and he needed to focus on going home. He wasn’t this man anymore. Didn’t they see that? Any of them? He was changed, rehabilitated, if you will, reformed. He was a father to a little girl who knew no other. He was a friend, lover, and partner to a brave and kind woman who offered forgiveness even when she shouldn’t. He needed that now. That forgiveness. 

He left Germany the next morning. On a Monday. He arrived at his farm in Utah as the sun set, exhaustion hanging on him like a noose. It was late summer and warm and beautiful strips of blue and orange and yellow crisscrossed the darkening sky. He stopped to stare at it for a moment, dropping his bag to the ground, suddenly too tired to enter the empty house. Too tired to contemplate his next move. He hated being there alone now. He hated the thought that his home would be lonely and quiet again, lifeless. 

“Raymond?” His breath caught in his throat, and he turned to the backdoor. There she stood behind the screen door leading to the kitchen, the light from inside creating a gold aura around her. The door creaked open as she pushed her way to the porch and then down to where he stood in the grass. Her dress was a buttery yellow; the same one she’d worn when he’d first seen her again after her death, he realized. His beautiful girl alive; that feeling – he remembered it so well; the realization that she lived, that she breathed, that he could touch her and smell her again; it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. A resurrection. It was potent and had a lasting effect. Even now it was visceral. A year later she remained a wonder to him. “Red? Hey? What happened? Where have you been? You said Thursday, Red. I haven’t been able to get in touch with you for days,” her voice broke then, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve been sick with worry. Tell me what happened.”

Her touch was gentle on his forearm. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He could only shake his head as he felt her arms encircle him and pull him close. She hugged him tightly.

“Lizzy. I’m sorry. So sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with the cabal. I shouldn’t have jeopardized you, us.” He hugged her tightly right back. 

“Red? Did something happen?” She pulled back to look at him again, up close. 

“I … I, uh, I threw out my phone. I was afraid it was compromised. I didn’t want to risk getting another. I didn’t trust myself not to call you. It’s a slippery slope, Lizzy, this nasty work with these unscrupulous people.” He shook his head. “It isn’t something I want to engage in again; no matter the circumstances.”

“Good. I don’t want you involved in anything like this ever again, Raymond. These past few days … I … I don’t want to feel like that again. It didn’t matter that I left. I need to keep Agnes safe, but I am compromised. By you. I need you. I can’t walk away, even when I should. I certainly can’t stay away. I’m not talking about physically, even though that’s true, too, but emotionally, mentally. I kept thinking about when we were searching for you. How desperate I was, how despondent. So much of that time is a blur for me; all that’s clear is Agnes and my need to find you and the thought that I may never see you again. I don’t want to feel that way ever again.”

He leaned into her again and kissed her lips so gently, so slowly before pressing his forehead against hers. “Oh, sweetheart, I am so pleased you’re here, so relieved. Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I’ll never give up on you.” She kissed him again, warm and soft. 

“Is my girl here, too?”

She grinned. “Yes, your girl is asleep. Exhausted from running around this place again. She’s beside herself with joy to be back. I think you need to prepare yourself, because she wants a pony. In her words, ‘a real one.’”

“Uh huh. I think you have only yourself to blame, Elizabeth. She told me all about her plastic ponies with their fake manes. She’s smart enough to know the real thing is always better,” he said, as he guided her up the steps of the porch.

“Red? When did I stop being your girl?” She kidded him. He dropped his bag on the floor of the kitchen and grabbed her around her waist. He backed her up to the nearest wall and pressed himself against her. 

“Tsk. Tsk. You are a woman, Elizabeth. A most appealing woman in that fetching dress. It’s a pity it needs to go. I’m fond of it. Here let’s slip it carefully over your head. That’s right. Oh, my, my. I’m afraid those panties need to go as well. That’s it, step, step. Good. Now, here let me. Now, that lovely, lacy bra was getting in my way. Perfect. Now, you’re perfect. Hmmm. I was so tired before. But, now? Oh, now, I’m wide awake, my dear. You are more tempting than anything I’ve ever had the pleasure of desiring. Infinitely more delicious than anything I’ve ever tasted.”

“Red,” she whispered, panting as the tip of one of his fingers ran down the center of her body. “Take me to bed. Please.”

“Oh, I’ve missed you so, Lizzy.”

************************************************************************************************

It was like that. Difficult, then not. Angry, then blissful. Frightening, then peaceful. Never dull. Never predicable. Always full of love and a certain amount of longing. Eventually, there was a surprise. Another life. A baby. A boy. And, Lizzy saying, “Just once I’d like to plan a pregnancy of mine, instead of being caught unaware.” And Red disagreeing, “Now where’s the fun in that. You’re an intelligent woman, Lizzy, but no one is perfect. Your spontaneity gets in the way of this planning you want. Your impulsiveness, and might I say, very becoming eagerness and excitement, has served us well in the past. This little bit of news, well, I couldn’t be more pleased. This way is best. Life, people don’t surprise me much anymore. But, you always do. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

 

And, in time, there were ponies. For Agnes and her brother. For more than them. The horse farm began operating again. It became a family endeavor, fruitful and fun. There were holidays with family and friends, old and new. Dembe, Kate, Baz, Dom, and trusted locals who helped out at the farm.

 

It wasn’t perfect. Lizzy was still volatile and Red was still overbearing. On occasion, one reminded the other of these less than desirable traits. It’s what married couples did – lovingly, out of necessity for the continuation of the union. You see, they got married. Before the baby was born, quietly, at the Justice of the Peace for only Agnes and Dembe to see. It was enough. It was beautiful. 

 

Sometimes life surprises us. Out of darkness comes light. Out of despair hope is found. Something that seems at an end can become new again. There are things that guide us, provide us with a compass for our life, things that show us the way. Maybe not always things, but people. Or better yet, more true, one person. Often, it only takes one person to show us the way. Our way. Forward.


End file.
